Cover feature: Merton College Chapel

Glück Pipe Organs,
New York, New York

St. John’s of Lattingtown Episcopal Church,
Locust Valley, New York

An historic idyll

The hamlet of Lattingtown, a sub-enclave of Locust Valley on New York’s Long Island, is named for the locust trees that forest the terminal moraines left by receding glaciers. The land was purchased from the Algonquin-speaking tribe of the Lenape nation in 1667, and during the late nineteenth century, the region became known for its quiet serenity while enjoying proximity to New York City, where many of the area residents also kept city homes and offices for their business interests.

By the 1920s, society architects such as Delano and Aldrich; Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue; McKim, Mead, and White; Cass Gilbert; and Carrère and Hastings designed resplendent residences for privacy-seeking industrialists and financiers in the Glen Cove region, whose names may still be unfamiliar to most. The imposing estate houses were (and are) known by name rather than by street address, including attorney William Dameron Guthrie’s vast property, “Meudon,” named for Château de Meudon in the Parisian suburb where Marcel Dupré kept a house fitted up with a Mutin-Cavaillé-Coll organ.

In the bucolic Locust Valley–Glen Cove region, about a dozen houses in the “neighborhood” were furnished with pipe organs by the Aeolian Company, including the II/27 in Louis Comfort Tiffany’s “Laurelton Hall,” the IV/63 in Nicholas F. Brady’s “Inisfada,” and the colossal IV/107 in Frank W. Woolworth’s “Winfield Hall.” Yet it was the wife of sulfur baron Henry Devereux Whiton who is listed as the client for the II/13 Ernest M. Skinner organ of 1919 for their house “up the road” from St. John’s. It was this little organ, with roll-playing mechanism, which appears to have influenced the church’s choice of Skinner to build his Opus 447 when the church was reconfigured for its reopening in 1924. The church organ was a smaller affair of eleven ranks, built in Skinner’s Westfield shop. 

Neither of the small Skinner organs remains intact. Frieda Frasch Whiton divorced Henry in 1921, married Count David Augustus Constantini the following year, and upon the count’s death in 1937, married Baron Carl Gottlieb von Seidlitz, to whom she remained married until her death in 1951. The fate of the house organ appears lost to history.

 

The commission

Ten years ago, Eric Milnes, director of music, approached me about building a new organ for St. John’s, which I assumed would be a mechanical-action organ in historic style and temperament, as Mr. Milnes has earned an internationally celebrated reputation as a conductor and historical keyboard artist specializing in the historically informed performance of Baroque keyboard, instrumental, and choral music with period instruments. Yet to my delight, he envisioned a powerful, multifaceted, colorful adjunct to the Episcopal liturgy that could authentically interpret the concert repertoire. The use of electropneumatic action opened the door to a world of tonal possibilities in which the two of us could scratch our academic itches free from the strangulation of purist dogma. The challenge was not to acquiesce to bland “eclecticism,” but to devise an enchanting chameleon without spawning a generic creature devoid of character and personality.

 

The musical formula

The Latin multum in parvo, or “much in little,” often is used to assess the useful content-to-thickness ratio of short, highly informative books, whether technical or historical. It was co-opted by the speculative and operative arms of organbuilding to describe service-playing instruments of small scope and grand effect, most associated with English builders of the past 150 years, although the French have been parallel adepts. The criteria for this appellation remain nebulous, and the label has been adhered to organs of between 18 and 40 ranks, two or three manuals, French, English, or American, with mechanical or assisted action. 

In designing this 20-rank instrument for St. John’s, I chose to focus upon what the substantive literature demands of the organ. Thousands of American instruments have harbored lovely stops, but could never honor the wishes of the composers who wrote organ music. Since concert literature was written by church organists for the instruments they played in church, I always choose to work backwards from the score to create instruments with the required voices at the right pitches, properly grouped and usefully juxtaposed. Desirable elements in an organ of this limited size are an anchoring principal chorus, warmly and elegantly voiced with a clear, silvery mixture of sensible composition; a collection of flutes of diverse structure and material; a tierce combination for solo work; a pair of vibrant strings of authentically cutting, exceptional character; the three primary reed colors (Trumpet, Oboe, and Clarinet, the last of which must play in dialogue with the cornet); and a pedal division producing a very clean pitch line that can be heard moving clearly beneath and through the manual textures. No wasted space, no wasted metal.

By good fortune, the Skinner Salicional and Voix Céleste, as well as the Pedal 16′ Bourdon, survived the onslaught of the Orgelbewegung, so some heritage pipework, renamed, lives on in the organ. The new metal pipes are built of a spotted alloy of 50% tin (including the hefty resonators of the Swell 16′ Basset Horn). New timber pipes are poplar with walnut caps. Because this is a two-manual instrument, some solo stops are duplexed between the manuals, and some extension work is included. Of note are the variably scaled 16′ Pedal extension of the Skinner string and the 24-pipe downward extension of the Great 2′ Gemshorn as the Pedal 8′ Spitzflöte and 4′ Choral Bass. Although it is my policy to avoid unification of any manual rank at adjacent pitches, opting for a two-octave separation, the Chimney Flute appears twice in the Great department, charming at the unison, beguiling at the octave. The short-but-useful-compass 8′ Herald Trumpet is voiced on the same pressure as the rest of the organ. Its distinction comes from its scaling, shallot style, and voicing, its tone warmer and rounder than its name implies.

 

Expression: upstairs, downstairs

The Great and some of the Pedal fluework are unenclosed above the impost, and the remainder of the organ’s resources are under expression, including the Herald Trumpet and four of the five 16′ stops: the Violone, a downward extrapolation with a broadening scale of the 8′ Viole de Gambe, with Haskell re-entrant tubes; the Bourdon, extended from the 8′ Stopt Diapason; the Bombarde, an extension of the Trumpet; and the Basset Horn. This is accommodated by a two-story expression enclosure, with upper and lower banks of shutter blades. The knob engraved “Lower Shutters Off” disables and closes the shutters at the choir-loft level while permitting the entirety of the enclosed organ to speak through the controllable upper set behind the Great, using the nave’s ceiling as a sounding board. The Great 16′ Double Diapason is also enclosed, yet has no pipes of its own, being derived from the Swell 4′ Principal from C25 to G56, and the bass taken from the 16′ Bourdon/8′ Stopt Diapason unit. The addition to the ensemble is one of nobility and gravity without muddiness. The Pedal 16′ Subbass provides significant punch, never shared by, or extended from, its manual brethren.

 

The organ case

The remarkable oak casework was carved by William and Alexander Clow of Edinburgh to the designs of Sir Robert Stodart Lorimer, and was the gift of Mr. and Mrs. John Pierpont Morgan. The Clow brothers had completed the carved figures in the Chapel of the Knights of the Order of the Thistle at St. Giles Cathedral, Edinburgh, in 1911 and were a perfect team to work on a small summer church of this stature. The organ case was part of a much larger decorative program by Sir Robert and financed by Morgan; the entirety of St. John’s is pavé with exuberant carving in this style. 

The case was altered to accommodate the Skinner instrument, and again in the 1970s. In the course of decades, carved panels were discarded, crockets cut down, and a brash horizontal trumpet stop installed. Carvings were desiccated and cracked, and the case had settled after structural elements were removed during the last campaign of alterations. Our mission was to structurally stabilize and restore the case to the spirit of the Skinner era, with new components respecting the aesthetic sensibility of Morgan’s gift. There could be no stylistic infelicities.

For the first time since the church was built, the organ chamber is thermally insulated, and the façade bears speaking pipes of the Great 8′ Open Diapason. The original façade was composed of dumb pipes without winded toeboards, so the new façade pipes are given breath through the back of the foot via a tube of pipe metal.

 

The console

The elaborately inlaid and carved keydesk was inspired by the South German rococo work of Joseph Gabler from the second quarter of the 18th century. The morphology is his, but the console is dressed in Tudor clothing to match the exceptional work of the Clow brothers. Linenfold panels surround the entire console, including the back, and the astonishingly detailed corbels that support the key bed are just as intricately carved on their inside surfaces as they are where visible. As with all of our consoles, contrasting species of wood are used for everything from “skunktailing” the key cheeks to differentiating toe studs by function. Keyboard compasses are 56/30, accommodating the majority of the repertoire, anthem accompaniments, and robust hymnody. All measurements and relationships comply with AGO standards, and the organ is tuned in equal temperament.

The organ was dedicated and blessed during the morning service on September 7, and the inaugural recital performed by Eric Milnes on September 28.

The family of artisans at Glück Pipe Organs is grateful to have been invited to design and build this jewel in a jewel box. We appreciate the trust of the parish and their patience during the decade of study, design, construction, and finishing. Our longstanding accomplices in engineering and craftsmanship—OSI, A. R. Schopp’s Sons, Peterson Electro-Musical Products, and Harris Precision Products—continue to work with the dedicated members of the Glück team: General Manager Albert Jensen-Moulton, Joseph DiSalle, Dominic Inferrera, Peter Jensen-Moulton, Daniel Perina, and Robert Rast.

—Sebastian M. Glück

President and Artistic & Tonal Director

 

For more information about Glück pipe organs, video presentations, compact discs, workshops, and lectures, please visit gluckpipeorgans.com. 

Photo credit: All photos by Albert Jensen-Moulton

 

Regarding Sebastian Glück’s Opus 18

Upon my return from conducting Bach at the Tage für Alte Musik early music festival in Regensburg, Germany, I made the decision about a new organ for St. John’s, where I have been director of music and organist for 34 years. My career outside of the church has resided mainly in the period-instrument realm, conducting productions of Monteverdi through Mozart, and performing on historical 17th- and 18th-century keyboards and modern replicas. It was perhaps a paradoxical realization, when imagining a dream instrument for my church, that I longed for the more eclectic instruments of my youth, when I was a student of Gerre Hancock, John Weaver, and Vernon de Tar. What would make that dream a reality would be an electropneumatic instrument through which I could luxuriate in the French and German Romantic legacies, the great post-Victorian Anglican tradition, and the magnificent repertoire that has followed.

Sebastian Glück’s tonal and architectural insights and Albert Jensen-Moulton’s technical capabilities combined to fully divine my desire to return to those musical roots, and to conceive a plan that would ultimately satisfy completely. Their ability to express poetically, as well as in succinct and accessible technical terms the mysteries of concept, design, construction, and installation made the leap from imagination to implementation feel attainable. They equipped me well with the descriptive tools to guide a searching congregation through the process with assurance and anticipatory exhilaration. Their excitement about a freshly conceived instrument, their commitment to historical fealty and tonal integrity, and their respect for the mission of music in worship make for a wonderfully responsive and interactive collaboration with the church musician and the worshipers. We at St. John’s felt shepherded and fully participatory at all stages of the process as our musical dream became the longed-for voice of praise in our parish.

St. John’s chancel is a marvel of intricately embellished woodcarving in a heritage edifice preserving the extravagant preferences enjoyed by the privileged of the Gilded Age. The organ case in particular is a splendor to behold, and required the most loving care in its conservation and adaptation to a new instrument. Sebastian Glück’s distinction in the field of architectural restoration was of no small interest to the stewards of St. John’s legacy. His workshop’s treatment of the organ case, and his design of a complementary, luxurious console, have brought us transcendent joy. Albert Jensen-Moulton’s exquisite lighting plan has revealed to us the grandeur of the reimagined organ case, and we believe that the organ had not been fully illuminated since the Skinner organ was installed almost 100 years ago. Every craftsman member of the firm brought uncommon care to protect and restore the beauty for all to appreciate, present and future.

Having just celebrated the dedication and blessing of the new organ at St. John’s, the glorious sounds (first heard at this occasion) have filled us with inspiration and delight. We perceive the individual character of each exquisitely voiced rank, the kaleidoscope of a multitude of ensembles, blended, rich, warm, full, and thrilling in the unique acoustic of the sanctuary. A twenty-rank organ, conceived, built, and voiced by the caring (and compulsive!) hands of master builders, has been richly appointed to express the enormous range of a broad and diverse repertoire. Our church has received the gifts of exhilaration, inspiration, wonder, and mystery in support of praise and prayer.

Our deepest gratitude is expressed to Sebastian, Albert, and all the artisans of Glück Pipe Organs.

—Eric Milnes
Director of Music & Organist

Boston, June 23–27

Jonathan B. Hall and Joyce Johnson Robinson

Jonathan B. Hall writes frequently for The American Organist, The Diapason, and The Tracker. He teaches music
theory and music criticism at New York University, and is music director of Central Presbyterian Church in Montclair, New Jersey. He serves on the American Guild of Organists’ Committee on Professional Certification. Hall is the author of Calvin Hampton, A Musician Without Borders  (Wayne Leupold Editions).

 

Joyce Johnson Robinson is editorial director of The Diapason.

The American Guild of Organists 2014 National Convention met in Boston, Massachusetts, June 23–27. The weather gods smiled favorably for the most part and the city was a delight. This was a walking convention, so it was possible to get sufficient exercise from transport on foot (and climbing stairs to use the metropolitan trains). The convention daily details (and program notes, written by the artists) were nicely packaged, with each day’s itinerary in a single booklet (all the booklets came packaged in a cardboard slipcase). Information on venues, organ specifications, and photos were presented alphabetically in a separate booklet (which one would have to remember to bring). Though we hoped to review all performances, we did not completely succeed—given the vast array of choices at our disposal, this ambition was unreasonable, but entirely understandable. 

 

Monday, June 23

James David Christie, 

Symphony Hall

Monday evening’s opening concert presented James David Christie along with the Boston Landmarks Orchestra, conducted by Christopher Wilkins, in a program of five works for organ and orchestra, at Symphony Hall in Boston. The 1949 Aeolian-Skinner organ, Opus 1134, was rebuilt by Foley-Baker in 2004, during which 32′ Diapason and Bourdon registers were added and the Bombarde division strengthened. The organ asserted itself wonderfully along with the orchestra; it added marvelous color and presence, and Christie used it to full advantage, presenting its range from whisper to roar, as both solo instrument and orchestral collaborator.

The program opened with Guilmant’s Première Symphonie, known to many of us as an organ-only sonata. It was enjoyable to begin the evening with a familiar work in a less-familiar guise, allowing us to hear well-known themes from the colors of different instruments. Christie’s deft use of the Swell pedal was noteworthy in the softer passages, and he withheld use of the Vox Humana until the end of the Pastorale. In the fiery finale, the organ’s upperwork was on display, along with great brass and percussion fanfares—quite a treat. 

Marie-Louise Langlais was then introduced from the audience; her husband Jean Langlais’ Thème, variations et final, op. 28 from 1937, was next on the program. It began in the low strings, with chordal punctuation from the upper strings, and a chantlike theme from the organ. The variation techniques included descending, sliding scales (which, admittedly, stringed instruments accomplish better than the organ does), fugal passages, and presentation of the theme by the pedal and brass. The work grew ever more fevered and exploited the powerful sound that an organ with an orchestra can produce.

After intermission, a medallion was presented to AGO President Eileen Guenther, by Vance Wolverton, marking the official induction of the AGO into the American Classical Music Hall of Fame. (Besides the AGO, other recent inductees include composer Aaron Jay Kernis, educator and choral conductor Weston Noble, pianist André Watts, and the Guarneri Quartet.) How positive for the AGO to receive such recognition from the wider musical world!

Boston-area native Daniel Pinkham’s 1995 Concerto No. 2 for Organ and Orchestra opened with an Overture Concertante, which featured much percussion and a good dose of spiky and angular themes that are a feature of Pinkham’s work. The lovely Adagietto was both lyrical and insistent, and the final Rondo alla burla included a crescendo with full organ and full orchestra, brass and percussion a-blazing. Next was Walter Piston’s 1943 Prelude and Allegro; the Prelude was hauntingly beautiful, melancholy yet sweet, in which Christie sensitively blended the organ with the string section of the orchestra, while the Allegro featured lively counterpoint. The concluding work was Samuel Barber’s Toccata Festiva from 1960; from the opening thunderclap of percussion to the lyrical and lovely themes to the pedal cadenza, Christie delivered the goods in this magical work. His playing was skillful and responsive and was enhanced by his elegant console demeanor.

Programs with multiple works for organ and orchestra (rather than merely a bit of Saint-Saëns) are rare; this was indeed a feast. 

 

Tuesday, June 24

Opening worship,

Cathedral of the Holy Cross

The convention’s opening interfaith worship service took place at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross. I arrived late (having stopped with some others to assist a conventioner who had fallen), and so missed the prelude (Carol Barnett’s March to Glory: ‘Draw me nearer,’ a convention commission, in its premiere performance), the opening hymn (with Richard Webster’s descant), and AGO Chaplain Don E. Saliers’s invocation. Colin Lynch, organist for the prelude and the service, played solidly throughout, in both hymns and the imaginatively registered anthems. 

Libby Larsen’s new hymn tune (another commission and premiere), for the text “Eternal Ruler of the ceaseless round,” was solid, simple to sing—all within an octave range—and yet still contained enough harmonic surprise to be fresh. Matthew Martin’s anthem, Jubilate Deo (also a commission and premiere) was a stirring setting of Psalm 100, and exhibited fine text painting. It was followed by the chant hymn The Great Forerunner of the Race (Ut queant laxis). 

Rev. Barbara Cawthorn Crafton spoke of how artists working in faith communities must deal with being competitive, and how to work to be the best you can be while still containing your ego. She also addressed the challenge of striving for higher quality—if a congregation will “allow access to their foundation, we can raise their ceiling.” Crafton also touched on an issue that resonates with many of us: “Tell me that what I gave my life for was not a mistake.”

Paul Halley’s anthem, Jesu, the very thought of thee, was simply stunning; based on the hymn tune St. Botolph, it offered both a bubbling-brook accompaniment (for flute stops) and a cappella writing. The majestic concluding hymn, Coe Fen (“How shall I sing that majesty?”), with alternate harmonization and setting by Richard Webster, stirred the soul. The postlude, Daniel Roth’s Fantasie sur l’hymne à Saint Jean Baptiste (a commissioned work for this service, based on Ut queant laxis), played by Leo Abbott, covered a range of emotions, textures, and sound; it ended quietly on a small tone cluster, and we departed to begin a big day.

 

Tuesday morning

Scott Dettra,

Trinity Church

Scott Dettra’s recital at Trinity Church was a filling meal of meaty compositions, ably presented on the Skinner and Aeolian-Skinner organs. Healey Willan’s Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, op. 146, was a seamless release of energy throughout. Évocation II, a 1996 work by Thierry Escaich, was a delightful, colorful composition. The piece opened with a pedal ostinato (of a single note in octaves); chords of many colors then spoke from various locations in the room, like birds in dialog amongst the trees. The work ended with a surprise chord at the end. Dettra’s use of the organ, in all its locations (and stamina in playing those ostinato pedal octaves), was masterful. 

Herbert Howells’s Psalm-Prelude, Set 1, op. 32, no. 2 (inspired by Psalm 37:11, “But the meek-spirited shall possess the earth”), was a quiet contemplation, sweet and comforting, that displayed the organ’s strings. In Seth Bingham’s Passacaglia in E Minor, op. 40, Dettra once again exploited the spatial elements of the organ’s divisions, as well as its colors, and offered the quietest of endings, with the audience holding its collective breath. The expressive Prière from Joseph Jongen’s Quatre pièces pour orgue, op. 37, was a contemplative whisper on the strings; the concluding work, Maurice Duruflé’s Prélude et Fugue sur le nom d’Alain (played faster than I have ever heard it, but with absolute control) was an exercise in rhythmic propulsion and a spirited conclusion to an excellent recital.

 

Tuesday evening

Christian Lane,

Memorial Church, Harvard

Christian Lane presented his recital at Harvard University’s Memorial Church twice in a row (with but a 25-minute break) on this warm Tuesday evening. He began on the 1930 Skinner organ, Opus 793, now comprising 45 ranks. Lane offered a swashbuckling opening with Leo Sowerby’s Comes Autumn Time, in which the themes were made wonderfully clear through the full texture. Ned Rorem’s Magnificat from Organbook II and “There is a Spirit That Delights to Do No Evil” from A Quaker Reader were sensitively played; the latter work’s final chord was topped with a single note on the chimes. 

The mid-section of the recital included trumpeter Chris Gekker, professor of trumpet at the University of Maryland School of Music, and soloist on more than 30 recordings. Gekker played from the back balcony, first on Alan Hovhaness’s Prayer of St. Gregory, op. 62b, a lovely dialogue between organ and trumpet, and then the solo work Solstice Prelude by Carson Cooman (here in its first performance), a graceful work whose melodic structure featured thirds (mostly), on the heels of Christian Lane’s muscular reading of Max Reger’s Introduktion und Passacaglia d-moll. 

The C. B. Fisk Opus 139 (2012) in the gallery was used for the remainder of the recital. Another convention-commissioned premiere by Carson Cooman, Solstice Sonata, now combined trumpet and organ. Take Flight featured rapid passagework by the organ topped by the trumpet, then each instrument echoed the other. The Dream of Peace offered a smooth trumpet line over thick and complex chords, while Glittering, Aglow ended the work with a frenetic and splashy 3+3+2 rhythm. 

Lane then presented Jehan Alain’s Variations sur un thème de Clément Jannequin, its modal melodies sounding well on the Fisk; it was for me a highlight of the recital. Lane concluded with Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582, in a seamless performance that changed colors throughout but never let its energy lapse—a fresh approach to a familiar piece and a wonderful ending to a rewarding recital. 

 

Wednesday, June 25

Rosalind Mohnsen,

St. Joseph Parish

St. Joseph Parish, Boston, is home to an 1883 Hook & Hastings organ, Opus 1168 of two manuals, which includes a 16′ Open Diapason on the Great and corpulent, mellow reeds. The room, with its beautiful stained-glass windows and generous acoustic, provided as much pleasure as did the organ and player.

Rosalind Mohnsen displayed the organ’s many colors in a creatively registered program of mostly shorter works, many of them unfamiliar to me and many by composers with a Massachusetts connection. Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel’s Prelude in F Major offered sweeping, singing  lines; Mohnsen displayed the rich flutes in Tournemire’s S. Joseph Sponsi B.V.M: Prélude à l’Introït, from the Easter cycle of L’orgue mystique, op. 56. I especially enjoyed hearing the beefy Pedal division get its due in Everett Titcomb’s Toccata on ‘Salve Regina.’ 

Mohnsen did a fine job with two smaller works of Max Reger: Benedictus from Zwölf Stücke für die Orgel, op. 59, with a marvelous fugal section and harmonic detours, and Scherzo, from Zwölf Stücke für die Orgel, op. 65, in which the Cromorne took a turn. 

The works of four Massachusetts composers came next—all either born in or otherwise identified with the Bay State, and all from the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries: George Elbridge Whiting’s Melody (Homage to Grieg) from Twenty-Four Progressive Studies for the Pipe-Organ, which displayed the flutes and Oboe; George Whitefield Chadwick’s Postlude from Ten Progressive Pedal Studies; Frederick N. Shackley’s delightful Gavotte Pastorale, with its gapped registration; and Horatio Parker’s Fugue in C Minor from Four Compositions, which featured the massive pedal reed stop. (Parker, the Yale professor and Ives’ teacher, was born in Auburndale, Massachusetts.)

Next followed German works: Johann Kirnberger’s Herzlich thut mich verlangen, a lovely chorale setting featuring the oboe with tremolo; Sigfrid Karg-Elert’s Abstraction (alla Schönberg) from Dreiunddreissig Portraits, jumpy and dissonant, over a higher-pitched drone by the flutes; Johann Krebs’s Trio in F, recalling a trio sonata of his teacher Bach. 

Mohnsen ended with W. Eugene Thayer’s Sonata No. 3 in D Minor, featuring a sweet Andante, and a closing set of variations based on Austrian Hymn, the final variation containing a formidable pedal cadenza to introduce the tune’s last phrase. This was a full-bodied close to Mohnsen’s ably played and satisfying recital. 

 

Wednesday evening

Lutheran Vespers, 

Joan Lippincott & Boston Early Music Festival Chamber Ensemble

The service, held in the lively acoustic of the modern, brick-walled First Lutheran Church of Boston, was entitled “A Praetorius Organvespers for Pentecost.” It was led by Rev. Ingo Dutzmann, with organist Bálint Karosi, and the vocal ensemble Canto Armonico, conducted by Ulf Wellner and Cheryl Ryder; brass players were placed in the side gallery. The service was designed by Cheryl Ryder, Canto Armonico’s executive director. The opening pieces were all based on Come, Holy Ghost: the chant version of Veni Creator Spiritus in the Hieronymus Praetorius organ prelude, an antiphon by Franz Eler [from Cantica Sacrae, 1588], motet Komm, heiliger Geist by Michael Praetorius, and the lustily sung hymn Come, Holy Ghost (Enchiridion, 1524). Then followed choral psalmody (Psalms 113 and 104, the latter set by Schütz), readings and a responsory, the Magnificat (alternatim between chant and organ, with hymn interpolations by Michael Praetorius), and a Hieronymus Praetorius setting of Te Deum Laudamus. In the concluding organ postlude, Michael Praetorius’s Nun lob, meine seele, Bálint Karosi inspired awe with the work’s marvelous scalar passages and fiery finish, topped with a Zimbelstern.

All this made me wish that those who clamor for simplistic worship music had been present, to experience how soul-stirring traditional worship can be (even traditional from a century or two before the American Revolution!). It was so well performed and so satisfying to experience. Bravi (or wunderbar) and thanks to all.

Joan Lippincott then presented a program of three 18th-century concertos, accompanied by the Boston Early Music Chamber Ensemble, an eight-member string group led by concertmaster Robert Mealy, who stood near the keydesk for ease of interaction with the organist. The Richards, Fowkes & Co. organ spoke exuberantly into the room and put the nuances of Lippincott’s articulations and phrasing clearly on display. In Handel’s four-movement Concerto in B-flat Major, most enjoyable were the ornamented repeats (which included sweeping scales). The first movement of C. P. E. Bach’s Concerto in E-flat Major ended with a marvelous cadenza, and the second movement demonstrated the empfindsamer Stil with the melody played by flute and tremolo. Lippincott ended with a familiar friend, J. S. Bach’s Concerto in D Minor, wrapping up a satisfying evening of stylishly played works in a splendid acoustic.

—Joyce Johnson Robinson

 

Tuesday, June 24

Craig Cramer,

Old South Church 

I hurried back from the opening service to find a spot in Old South Church, to hear Craig Cramer’s recital. The organ, at its core Skinner’s Opus 308 from 1921 (originally installed in St. Paul, Minnesota), was reworked by Casavant and Hokans-Knapp, and later by Nelson Barden. The church previously housed Skinner’s Opus 231, installed in a still-earlier Hutchings case. (For the entire complicated story of the organs in this church, see the convention booklet. Better yet, visit www.oldsouth.org for an exhaustive account.) The organ’s most notable features include its rich String division, and its 32′ Bombarde (the organ’s thirty-twos are “dotted around the landscape,” as the convention book has it—notably lining the side balconies).

To this rich, intertexual organ landscape, Craig Cramer brought excellent technique and musicianship, as well as a highly original and well-chosen program. He began with a symphonic work by August Fauchard (1881–1957), titled Le mystère de Noël. This work is in the form of variations on the plainsong hymn “Jesu Redemptor Omnium.” Each variation is also a tone-poem on a verse of the hymn, or a sentence of scripture, or a scene from the Nativity. At times brilliant and at times simply competent and assured, the work was always executed with great perspicacity by Cramer, whose registrations were always exactly right, and whose sense of phrase, tempo, and rhythm were quintessentially French.

An interesting unpublished work followed, a tribute by Toni Zahnbrecher to his wife Beate. Titled Introduction, Scherzo under Fuge über B-E-A-T-E, its soggetto cavato is B-flat, E, A, D, and E. The closing material recalled the opening. Zahnbrecher is an organist and music director at St. Willibald’s Church in Munich. The next piece on the program, a Prelude and Fugue on ‘O Traurigkeit, O Herzeleid,’ by English composer Ethel Smyth (1841–1924), was perhaps the most conventional work on the program. Hard either to object to or wax enthusiastic over, it was nonetheless executed extremely well by the performer. I may not have been converted to the cause of Ethel Smyth, but I was certainly impressed with the quality of the performance.

The final piece on the program, Reger’s Second Sonata in D Minor, op. 60, was an exhilarating conclusion to an excellent recital. Cramer made the entire work accessible, communicating the music rather than simply presenting it. The recital ended on a most satisfying high note, as it were.

Overall, the only nit I found I could pick with this recital was a minor registrational one: I felt the 32′ Bombarde, “dotted around the landscape,” to be exciting once or twice, but eventually a little tiresome. The stop is enormous, Brobdingnagian, on pressures varying from 13″ to 20″; and of course de rigueur at an AGO convention! At least once, though, it detracted a little, with an effect like unto jackhammering. Cramer is an empathetic, gifted registrant, and an admirably conservative and well-grounded artist; surely he chose to use the stop because, well, it was there! And honestly, who wouldn’t? It’s an understandable decision; many an enthusiast in the audience was visibly excited by the high-pressure cannonade. I include this observation only in the interest of balance, and to make clear that my admiration for Cramer, while profound, is not facile. Kudos to Craig Cramer for presenting one of the highlights of the convention.

 

Wednesday evening

Evensong and John Scott recital,

Church of the Advent

The preludes began at about 7:12 for a 7:30 service. Organist and Choirmaster Mark Dwyer played the prelude, and all hymns and service music; Associate Organist-Choirmaster Ross Wood played the psalms, Mag and Nunc, and postlude. We first heard the C. Hubert H. Parry Fantasy and Fugue in G, op. 188. It was played extremely well: note-perfect, with excellent registrations and pacing. It was just the right piece to open a high Anglican evensong in honor of St. Botolph, patron saint of Boston. The David Lasky “Prelude on Picardy” was a meditative work that hewed fairly closely to the hymn tune; a nice contrast to the Parry. It was a commission for the convention, and this was its first performance. The choir sang beautifully; the Introit (by Byrd), the Preces (by Bernard Rose), and the psalms (67, by Bairstow, and 96, by Thalben-Ball) were executed with balance, blend, clarity of diction, and a tone at once straight and warmly vibrant. The hymns, needless to say, were “belted out” by a motivated congregation. The “Mag and Nunc”were from Howells’ Gloucester Service—composed, as the program book reminded us, for the Cathedral Church of the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity, Gloucester.

After Evensong—which surely thrilled every heart in the building, Anglican or not—John Scott gave an equally thrilling organ recital. He opened with Wild Bells, a piece composed in 1986 by Michael Berkeley. This piece, especially as it settled into its thrilling Vierne-ish body and conclusion, was a great opener. It was followed by the Stanford Fantasia and Toccata in D Minor, op. 57. Scott made this formidable work sound easy; right from its soft opening, the piece was infused with a certain lyricism, even amidst its moments of tumult. It was an even-keeled, gracious reading, and even at its most passionate, it was presented devoid of ego or excess showmanship. This was followed by the Frank Bridge Adagio, in a confident and convincing reading.

Next we had a premiere by a young American composer, Nico Muhly. His suite, Patterns, was another AGO commission, and this was also a premiere performance. I was delighted to discover this young composer, who is (like your reviewer) an English major turned musician. His own comments on Patterns are a joy to read, laced with vivid expressions. We have “clumsy cousins” in the pedal; a “perpetual motion machine on its highest setting”; “hiccoughs” and other colorful turns of phrase. Mr. Muhly should write an opera! His work, which offered fascinating rhythmic whirligigs, impressions of crickets (for this reviewer), and a somewhat more orthodox toccata to finish, was well received. In a word, nifty.

The final three pieces were the Fantasie-Chorale No.1 in D-flat from 1931, by Percy Whitlock; the Peter Fricker Pastorale (1959) and the Mathias Recessional, op. 96, no. 4 (1986). The Whitlock featured beautifully-managed registrations; I heard new sounds from the organ, always a thing I listen for in a recital. The use of expression was faultless; the piece grew elegantly, inexorably. The Fricker began on a spooky (for me) note, yielding to a quieter ending. And the Mathias was a perfect light finisher. Similar in style and spirit to his well-known Processional, the piece alternates a very lively solo line with a darker middle section with new material.

Overall, John Scott played a thoroughly professional and thoroughly enjoyable recital. It was an ideal blend of old and new, centered on English organ culture and yet reaching outward. This evening’s worship/concert pairing was as perfect as one could hope for.

 

Thursday, June 26

Jonathan Ryan,

Christ Church Cambridge

On Thursday morning, I gave a paper at the convention hotel. I hope that future conventions will continue to offer the option of participating this way; it offered a new, enriching, and very inclusive way to experience the AGO. Afterwards, I left immediately for Cambridge and Jonathan Ryan’s recital.

Christ Church is a small, wooden, eighteenth-century structure, with a low ceiling, many pillars, tall clear windows, and virtually no room for a pipe organ. In this somewhat cramped, though richly historic, venue (George Washington worshiped here on New Year’s Eve, 1775), Jonathan Ryan presented one of the convention’s finest recitals. The program was all the more remarkable for being delivered from memory, a remarkable feat in and of itself.

During the program, I found myself struggling, not with Ryan’s excellent playing, but with the relationship of the organ and acoustic. Part of the problem was that the room was packed, and that people kept arriving—a nice problem to have! But later, I learned more: there is almost no room for an organ, and no possibility of radical restructuring of the space. The Schoenstein organ succeeds in part through very high wind pressures (Ryan spoke to me afterwards, citing pressures of about twenty inches in some cases) and even the adoption of tone chutes. None of these expedients can fully conquer an acoustic that tends toward the dead side. As a result, some of the sonorities had to be accepted as the “best possible under the circumstances” variety. This is the fault of no one.

The recital began with the Dupré Symphonie-Passion. Tempo was excellent; playing was clean, accurate, and confident. The crescendo to full organ was seamless and seemed effortless. Toward the end of the first movement, the sense of a singing line was most palpably evident. I wished for more acoustic—even a more humid day!—to give more resonance to the well-timed pauses at the end; these deserved, in Longfellow’s words, “wild reverberations, as of thunder in the mountains.”

In the other movements, Ryan used the colors of the organ to good effect, and with unceasingly varied creativity. This was especially clear in the third movement, where the dynamic and timbral range was as wide as one could hope for. Throughout, there was a sense of clear, thorough mastery of the music, and a clear vision for its interpretation. 

Following the Dupré, we heard a Meditation (2005) composed by Ken Yukl, who is married to Pamela Decker. The piece centered on a sweet lyrical tune; my impression was of early American hymnody. There was a nice buildup in classic English manner, which yielded back to a quieter and dreamier mood. We then heard two of the Schumann opus 56, numbers 5 and 4. As the first began, I was struck, again, with a sense of fresh registration. Both of these were played with great skill; one never missed the canonical writing.

Ryan ended with the Sowerby Pageant. Several of Sowerby’s students in Chicago have told me that he loved the Franck Finale, op. 21, and played it often at St. James Cathedral, sometimes for private recitals. I was struck, at this performance of Pageant, by its spiritual kinship with the Finale. Ryan has spent time in Chicago and has internalized the best of what it offers. He made the ferocious difficulties of Pageant seem like minor issues. Jonathan Ryan is one of the brightest younger artists in the field today; his Cambridge recital augurs a long and distinguished career.

 

Thursday afternoon

Heinrich Christiansen,

King’s Chapel

After Jonathan Ryan’s recital in Cambridge, I got back into Boston for the program at King’s Chapel. This church, marked by Daniel Pinkham’s long tenure, lies a few blocks north of Boston Common and close by Paul Revere’s resting place. The organ is Fisk Opus 44 from 1964. The program was for organ and string quartet. 

This church, once the symbol of royal Anglicanism in colonial Boston, today occupies about the same position in its city as St. Paul’s Chapel does in Manhattan. Though smaller than its New York cousin, King’s Chapel boasts some wonderful archaic features, like box pews throughout the space. I thoroughly enjoyed occupying one of these and facing backwards, so I could watch the performance.

Heinrich Christiansen, who has been at King’s since 2000, presented a varied and intruiguing program of music old and new. For me, the pieces that opened and closed the concert were the most enjoyable. Christiansen began with the Pinkham Sonata No. 1 for Organ and Strings, from 1943. A short work, it impressed me almost as more of a chorale, in the French Romantic sense, than a sonata per se. The organ interfaced elegantly with the strings, and the sense of ensemble was generally quite fine throughout.

This was followed by a work by Robert Sirota, titled Apparitions; it was a commission for this convention, and we heard its first performance. Sirota used four hymn tunes, and throughout the work fanned out a range of string and organ techniques. There were glassy harmonics, pizzicati, and various aliquot-rich organ registrations interacting with varied textures and ranges in the quartet. The diversity of textures was intriguing, but didn’t gel into a coherent musical statement. Sirota’s work was followed by Naji Hakim’s Capriccio, originally a commission for the 2006 Chicago convention. This piece might have done with being edited for length, but was extremely well performed by both violin and organ. It was quite amusing and easy to follow throughout—a good palate cleanser in Hakim’s whimsical style. (This is a delightful facet of Hakim’s musical personality, and I enjoyed it a lot.)

Christiansen ended with a Soler piece, the Quintet No. 3 in G Major. Its five movements projected a gracious, Mozartean spirit and seemed perfectly suited to an eighteenth-century church on a rainy New England afternoon. It made the rush-hour subway trip back to the hotel—the only awkward bit of traveling in my entire week—very bearable indeed.

 

Thursday evening 

Unitarian Worship and Peter Sykes,

First Church in Boston

First Church was exactly that, founded by the first arrivals in Massachusetts Bay during the Great Migration, led by Governor Winthrop. From its humble beginnings in 1630, it grew in stature, eventually reclaiming the various congregations that split off from it. Cotton Mather was one of its pastors, as was the father of poet e. e. cummings. During the Unitarian controversy, it embraced the new doctrine.

Today, this nearly 400-year-old church boasts a building in modernist style from 1972 (there was a fire in 1968); its members are very active in the community and welcomed me with warmth. The event was not packed to standing room, as Jonathan Ryan’s recital had been. I regretted this, as the service and concert were certainly convention highlights, models of liturgical music and concert programing.

The prelude, or “gathering music,” was another convention premiere: Embertides by Hilary Tann. These were evocative and effective pieces, playing off the four times in the traditional liturgical calendar when Ember Days are observed. The etymology of “ember” is unclear; one theory is that the word is “ymbren,” which is Old English for “to remember.” Be that as it may, Tann’s pieces were very interesting, and worth investigating. The organ was a large Casavant, in a modern case, in the Werkprinzip fashion. 

The choral music at this service was beautifully done, much of it a cappella by a small and obviously very professional choir. The “chalice lighting” motet was by Karl Henning, Love Is the Spirit of This Church, and nothing in the text would preclude its use in other traditions as far as I could see. An anthem by Leo Collins set the original church covenant of First Church; historically interesting but too particular for wider use. The major choral offering was called Prayer of Hildegard, by Edward Thompson, and again was a commission for this convention. For this, the choir came down to the chancel, and was accompanied by marimba for its three movements. The choral writing, as well as the marimba writing, were really effective; the piece was very enjoyable to hear.

Perhaps most thrilling of all, though, was the postlude, from the Liturgical Suite for Organ, op. 69, by Larry Thomas Bell. This piece was commissioned about a decade ago by Carson Cooman and Richard Bunbury; it was quite exciting, a very worthy addition to our repertoire of toccatas!

The entire service was planned and executed with intelligence and care. This extended to the sermon, which was beautifully affirmative of the value of sacred music and musicians. Delivered by the Rev. Stephen Kendrick, it should be read and prized by all organists. 

This service was followed by a concert on harpsichord and virginals by Peter Sykes. One of his harpsichords, unfortunately, had been sent back to his studio in error; we were left with the Winkler harpsichord, in German style, and two virginals, an Italian and a Flemish. On this last instrument, called a muselaar, Sykes began. 

His first piece, the Preludium Toccata of Sweelinck (SwWV 297) was a beautiful choice. It was captivating, thanks to the performer’s sense of form and motivic saturation. Next, on the Italian virginal (with a brighter and lighter tone) was the Toccata Prima from the Libro Primo (1608) of Frescobaldi. Here, the performer offset the brightness of the instrument with an introspective performance.

The remaining works—the Toccata Seconda (FbWV 102) of Froberger, the Praeludium in G Minor (BuxWV 163) of Buxtehude, and the Toccata in D Major, BWV 912, of Bach—were played on the two-manual Winkler harpsichord, a fine all-purpose instrument. Of these, I was most deeply struck by the Bach. What a Janus figure he is! Looking back to the multipartite works of his forebears, he also looks ahead, in a curious and prophetic way, to late Beethoven. Throughout, Sykes played with a keen sense of structure and motive, and communicated this to the audience. His performance was a revelation and a joy. 

 

Friday, June 27

Morning Prayer,

Basilica of Our Lady of Perpetual Help

On Friday, the convention began with Morning Prayer in honor of the patroness of this historic basilica in the Mission Hill district. It was a short ride on the T, but quite a change of scenery, moving from the polish of the convention hotel to a much grittier urban district. The church is beautiful, with a distinctive white cupola. A peaceful park adjoins, and I was able to rest there a while, having arrived early as usual.

The service was part of the Divine Office of the Catholic Church: Morning Prayer or Lauds. The music was greatly enhanced by the choir of men and boys of St. Paul’s Harvard Square. This choir is truly remarkable, as it is the only Roman Catholic choir school in the United States. The men of the choir are, according to St. Paul’s website, drawn largely from area music schools. John Robinson was the conductor, Jonathan Wessler the organist.

The Introit was the Kyrie Eleison of Ivan Božičević, the winner of the 2014 AGO/ECS Publishing Award in Choral Composition. It wasn’t entirely clear why a Kyrie would be chosen as an introit (more precisely, as an opening motet, as the Office has no introits per se), but the beauty of the setting soon banished that question. Throughout, there was excellent balance of organ and voices, due equally to the quality of the writing and the choir’s training. The choir sang serenely, with integrity and strength, as the piece moved from a hauntingly quiet opening to an energetic Christe, featuring solo work in the organ, and then back to a quiet mood. The opening hymn, “Hail, Queen of Heaven, the Ocean Star,” came from a time before my own religious formation; I had never sung it before, and cannot understand why it isn’t a standard Catholic hymn.

The psalms were largely Anglican; we heard Psalm 63 (always the first psalm on solemnities) by Henry Purcell, and then a Benedicite by Francis Jackson. The Purcell brought many smiles when it broke into its coda of alleluias to the tune we now call Westminster Abbey. The Jackson was sung to the highest standards, with the choir only pushed to its limit on the very highest notes. The organ and choir were again fully integrated, and the organ sang with a full, authoritative tone, rich in reeds. The congregation joined in the third psalm, sung in Tone V; it was prefaced by a glorious incipit en taille. The morning canticle, the Benedictus (or Canticle of Zachary), was set energetically by Scott Perkins, and was another first performance, commissioned by the convention. After the final hymn (all seven verses of “Hail, Holy Queen”) the postlude—Toccata, fugue et hymne sur ‘Ave maris stella,’ op. 28 of Flor Peeters—made perfect musical and liturgical sense. Peeters’s true skill and vision as a sacred musician were fully on display and in context during this stirring performance. All the musicians acquitted themselves expertly.

The recital following, by Thierry Escaich, was at its most arresting when the performer was playing his own works. These he presented with subtlety, flexibility, and fire. The opening work, Brahms’s early Prelude and Fugue in G Minor (WoO 10), was also dashing and exciting. It was, however, risky to program the familiar Bach In dir ist Freude from Orgelbüchlein, as there were some sketchy moments in the performance which, I assume, were unmissable by much of the audience. I was perfectly pleased with all of Escaich’s own work; in particular, his own work on Christ ist erstanden, which he played with suppleness and noble joy. Some of Escaich’s registrations were unusual, at one point reaching an apex of high brilliance, which lingered long after he released the keys; he did not carry this to excess, so it worked well. The last chords of this massive work were stunning and took a long time to die away—as did the enthusiastic applause.

The Romance and Finale from Vierne’s Fourth Symphony were both executed clearly and well; the Finale at a very fast tempo, though with great accuracy. The program concluded with an exciting improvisation on two hymns, Protestant and Catholic: “O Zion, Haste” and the Irish tune Slane. This worked up to a quintessential French toccata. The audience wanted more, so Escaich obliged with a joyful encore, presto.

 

Friday evening

Stephen Tharp,

The Mother Church (First Church of Christ, Scientist)

The convention’s closing recital was head, shoulders, and torso above every other event of the week. I heard much excellent, even world-class organ playing throughout, but Stephen Tharp’s program was transcendentally superior. Stephen Tharp is the best organist in America; further debate is pointless.

I might have even said this at intermission, before Tharp closed the deal with the second half, the performance of a memorized transcription that will live in the history books. 

As a cool evening came on, the vast space slowly filled, including several tiers above the main floor. In front of the awe-inspiring gilded façade was a large screen, in order to project a view of the performer. The camera was situated by the left stop jamb, affording a good view of Mr. Tharp, including his feet.

The program (a Saint Cecilia recital, endowed by the late Marianne Webb) began with the Final of Naji Hakim’s Hommage à Stravinsky. This was a clever choice, bookending the program and foreshadowing the second half. I have heard this devilishly difficult piece played before, but never with such passion and authority. It was followed by an ideal lighter work, the Prelude in F Minor by Nadia Boulanger. The contrast was delightful, and the Boulanger piece, though modest, was not easy, and was not treated in anything other than a serious, professional manner. Great care was lavished on the singing lines in the piece, and they stood out from the accompaniment in three dimensions.

Then came the Persichetti Sonata for Organ (1960). Here, I felt there was a certain invitation to lyricism in the first movement, which the performer declined in favor of an energetic approach. However, the lyricism of the slow movement was brought out just right. The final movement was as fiery and virtuosic as one could hope for; Tharp burned the house down with that one. The cyclical elements of the sonata—such as the identical gesture that opened all three movements—cohered and made musical sense. 

Next came the Sowerby Fantasy for Flute Stops, from the Suite. Here, again, I felt that a slightly more relaxed sense of whimsy at the opening would have been nice. However, the middle section was interpreted with a really wonderful, well-shaped singing line, and the rapid tempo of the first theme came to grow on me. Tharp knows how to make the organ sing; that was never in doubt.

The first half closed with the Max Reger Choralfantasie: Straf mich nicht in deinem Zorn, op. 40, no. 2. There was much anxiety and churning energy in this piece, as well as a spirit of genuine religiosity. The performer balanced these exactly right. The quiet, hymnic moments were absolutely sincere and paced to perfection, and the dramatic finale was extremely exciting. Lightning-fast piston changes gave seamless crescendos. My notes for the conclusion read thunderously thrilling. Much, topped with more, topped with most. It was first-rate and then some; the best Reger you’re ever likely to hear.

I spent the intermission in a state of exhilaration (not typical for me!), while eagerly anticipating the great second half which still lay before us. For this, Tharp played his own transcription of the Rite of Spring. Just a century ago, this ballet was a succès de scandale at its premiere. Tonight, while a few might have been scandalized, discerning audience members recognized the presence of musical greatness. There was no score; Tharp had worked out and memorized his arrangement from the two-piano version that Stravinsky prepared for rehearsals. He sat at the console, spent a long moment in thought, then snapped into action.

The performance combined detailed fidelity to the score with idiomatic adaptations, and extended techniques as appropriate—ferocious slappings of the bottom octave, with high-pressure reeds drawn, for example. The lyricism—the frenetic busyness—the earth-bound rage—it was all there. If anything, there was a bias towards the passionate and intense side. Throughout the performance, Tharp maintained an intent, low-key composure, entirely focused on the music. There was no ego on display. He was clearly drained by the performance, and had clearly held nothing of himself back from it.

Never previously have I found myself standing before my hands could come together in applause. 

Stephen Tharp’s recital was a triumphant conclusion to a great convention. Kudos to him, and to the Boston Chapter for excellent and innovative planning, and to all the performers and presenters.

—Jonathan B. Hall

Tan A Summers

One of the most interesting genres of music to arise during the 17th century was that of Portuguese and Spanish battle music written specifically for the organ. Iberian organs, highly versatile for their size and often equipped with formidable banks of horizontal reeds, were an inseparable factor in the development of this musical category, and still inform us how to play it. This article will examine the repertoire of Iberian battle music, its origins, and the impact of the villancico, ensalada, and the Iberian organ.

 

The repertoire

In an environment where composers wrote tientos and versets by the hundreds, the battle music repertoire seems quite small. Only about twenty pieces survive from the 17th century (Table 1), even if the list expands to include battle-like works with more generic names, or which appear to contain material borrowed from non-Iberian composers. Yet, perhaps because their unique battle-related content makes them fun to play, this small body of works appears on modern concert programs far more often than do the many tientos and versets that surround them in the manuscripts of the period. Mary Ellen Sutton¹ recommends in particular the battles marked in Table 1 with an asterisk as being of interest to modern audiences. Pieces marked + are nearly identical. The selection marked § has been attributed to both composers, or neither, as will be discussed later.

Most of the manuscripts containing battles (batalla in Spanish, batalha in Portuguese) came originally from monastery or cathedral libraries, no doubt because their composers were cathedral organists, some of them in holy orders. All of the manuscripts are now held in central libraries in or near Oporto and Braga, Portugal, and Madrid and Barcelona, Spain. Most of these works are available in modern transcription, but because so many of the anonymous pieces have similar names, I have included the original manuscript and folio numbers in Table 1.² 

In fact, almost all are described simply as a battle in a given mode. Mode designations imply that the compositions were intended for liturgical use. Fifth and sixth modes are the most common. The seven pieces in sixth mode have key signatures of F major. The four in the fifth tone are in C major. Although fifth mode is generally thought of as an F-based mode, its tenor is C. Sutton suggests that the use of C major here accompanies a general shift towards tonality. Three fifth-mode batallas, which are for all practical purposes written in the key of C, appear in Madrid MS 1357 in volumes indexed by mode. All of the fifth-mode versets in the first two volumes of MS 1357 were transposed to C.³ One of the two eighth-mode works, both thought to be by Aguilera de Heredía, is also in C major. The choice of key signature could be, of course, editorial. However, after playing the battles, I would agree with the editorial decisions. 

Most of the composers of battle music (Table 2) were famous musicians of their time and place. Pablo Bruna was considered one of the best organists and teachers in Spain. Blind since birth, he was known as “el ciego de Daroca” (the blind man of Daroca). Juan Batista Cabanilles was a master of the Spanish Baroque style, which enlarged on Renaissance practices and does not resemble the styles composers preferred in other parts of Europe during this era. A colleague said, “The world will crumble before a second Cabanilles appears.”

Some of the composers are less well known. The name of Diego (or Diogo) da Conceição appears in only one manuscript, where his few compositions are the best in the collection. Others remain unidentified, although stylistic similarities suggest that some of the anonymous pieces could be copies or variations on works by known composers. All of the known composers of battle music worked in Portugal or the Castilian region of Spain, where Iberian organ builders made improvements to the organs that facilitated this genre.

Borrowing from other composers was more acceptable in the Baroque era than it is today, and several of the battles demonstrate this procedure. The most notable is Cabanilles’s Batalla Imperial, which is identical, other than the ordering of the sections, to that of Johann Caspar Kerll, a slightly older German composer who worked in Austria. Who borrowed from whom is questionable, Mary Jane Corry positing a third composer entirely.⁵ In his article on Cabanilles in Grove Online, Barton Hudson attributes the battle to Kerll. In another example, two batalhas in Porto MS 1607 are quite similar to each other; Doderer suggests that based on their style, these might be different versions of a work by Cabanilles. In a third case, measures 58–159 of the Batalha de 6º Tom by Torrelhas are virtually identical to a section of one of José Ximénez’s Batallas.

 

Origins of the organ batalla/batalha

In approaching this topic, a person might ask what actually makes a composition a battle. The most basic consideration is the title. It is a battle if the composer says it is. However, battle pieces generally imitate the commotion of war with busy voicing, ostinato figures, lively rhythms, and percussive chords that simulate musket or cannon fire. They also often imitate the music of battle in the form of trumpet signals or fanfares. It is perhaps this trait that makes the music sound warlike in the 21st century. Trumpet signals are still in limited use in today’s military and are familiar to most listeners from ceremonies and the entertainment media.

The earliest music with these characteristics is the 14th-century caccia, which imitates the hunt with fanfares and rallying cries. A 15th-century battaglia by Heinrich Isaac for instruments with keyboard accompaniment has several characteristics that appear in most later battle music, such as ostinato figures and alternating duple and triple meter. It is interesting to note that Isaac also may have written his work for voices first, since Bianca Becherini found a poem whose text matches the music.

The music that began the battle craze in earnest, perhaps because it so cleverly captured the sounds of battle despite being written for unaccompanied voice, was Clément Janequin’s chanson La guerre. It immortalized a French victory over Swiss and Italian forces at the Battle of Marignano in 1515. Written in two large sections, this is a four-voice vocal work filled with a variety of techniques for making it sound warlike. Melodies imitate the calls of war trumpets, using actual tunes employed in battlefield communication. The onomatopoeic text that accompanies these may have come directly from the syllables players used when learning their music. Triadic figures in a simple harmonic background reflect the ensemble formation trumpeters of the time used, and quick notes simulate both the action of battle and more of the ceremonial trumpet sound.

La guerre was wildly popular and quickly spread across Europe, not only in its original form but also in imitations and transcriptions. Fifteen years later Matthias Werrecore wrote a retort, La battaglia taliana, commemorating an Italian victory over the French. Published in Germany, it was known everywhere as Die Kleine Schlacht, with Janequin’s chanson now being called Die Große Schlacht. Werrecore borrowed not only Janequin’s key (F Ionian) but copied the beginning motive from La guerre’s Secunda pars. This opening gesture, or variants of it, as well as the F-based mode, appear in a number of battles and tientos. I believe that Janequin’s motive was so widely admired because it was more than just a clever compositional device: it also accurately captured the sound of battle trumpets, both harmonically and melodically. 

 

The trumpet

To understand just what this battle sound was like, it is helpful to know a little about the trumpets that created it. From ancient times until the modern invention of radio, the trumpet was the primary means of battlefield communication. Art from ancient Egypt shows trumpet-playing soldiers on the march. After a hiatus following the fall of Rome, the trumpet appeared again in Europe as war booty collected from the Saracens. As the art of trumpet making progressed, the instruments developed from examples that could play only one low note to models that could play more than an octave above middle C and had a few diatonic notes. The trumpet ensemble became a symbol of power in the Renaissance court, and trumpet players were valued more highly than other performers.

Prior to 1975, scholars knew much about the Renaissance trumpet through two books published during the 17th century. These were Marin Mersenne’s Harmonie Universelle (1635), and Girolamo Fantini’s Modo para Imparare a sonare di Tromba (1638). Both books contain examples of battle trumpet calls, with syllables written under the notes, possibly to indicate tonguing but apparently also to aid the instrumentalist in learning the music. Scholars were able to see by studying the trumpet tunes that Janequin and his imitators had used real battle music in their compositions. While the syllables Mersenne and Fantini indicated were not the same as those Janequin used, that did not mean Janequin’s were not accurate for his time and location.

In 1970 historian Edward Tarr published a facsimile and translation of a third manuscript, Cesare Bendinelli’s Tutta l’arte della Trombetta. In 1614, Bendinelli had donated to a library his instrument and a manuscript containing a wealth of music and pedagogical material, and there they had lain for the next three and a half centuries. Bendinelli had gone a step further than Mersenne and Fantini. He described not only the notes but also the system by which Renaissance trumpeters played:

Here all the trumpeters begin to play, in the field, at princely courts, or in other places. I point out that a single [player] begins and the others follow in order, as is the custom . . . First the grosso; second the vulgano; third, alto e basso, that is, he who imitates the sonata with his notes, only lower, and who has to be quite expert; fourth the one who leads; and fifth, the clarino, who avoids octaves since they clash and are not used by those who understand music.

We can understand now why a Renaissance sovereign might have required twenty-four trumpeters. A chart of the harmonic series shows what notes each of the performers named by Bendinelli would have played (Example 1).

Understanding that Renaissance trumpeters played as an ensemble rather than as soloists now clarifies why composers so often imitated the opening gesture of La guerre’s Secunda pars. It represented not only the notes but also the harmony of the war trumpet sound of Janequin’s time. James South implies that even Janequin’s key of F may have been taken from practical example. Bendinelli’s own trumpet sounds close to our modern key of E, which may have been the F of his time and place.⁹ Bendinelli labeled the chart describing his own trumpet’s range as Trombetta Antigua, perhaps referring to the older war trumpet as contrasted with the newer C trumpet that had replaced it.

Example 2 shows how Bendinelli’s battle trumpet formation appears in Janequin’s much-imitated second section. In the first measure, all voices simulate trumpet harmony; then the bass and tenor sing the lines that the grosso and vulgano trumpets normally would have played. The rhythm of the short notes with the syllables “Fre re le le lan fan” is that of the rotta, a flourish with which both military and ceremonial trumpet music might end. I have discovered that the rotta figure features in many organ battles (Example 3). 

Perhaps the most imitated trumpet motive Janequin uses is the Boutez selle (“put on the saddle”) (Example 4). Distinctive and easily heard through the busy texture of the chanson, this figure appears in all of the Renaissance trumpet methods. In Bendinelli’s it is entitled Buta sella and includes an example of mnemonic syllables like those Janequin may have had in mind when he wrote La guerre. The Boutez selle figure appears repeatedly in the organ battles, and I have observed that it is often accompanied by battle trumpet harmony (Example 4).

The organ battles of Iberia do not simply copy Janequin’s chanson, however. They use fanfares and other trumpet-like figures that the composers no doubt heard as part of ceremonies, or perhaps even composed for trumpet as well (Example 5). Because these figures are still used today for similar purposes, we recognize them immediately.

Portuguese and Spanish organ battles also depart from Janequin in their overall structure. The actual battle depiction in La guerre, Secunda Pars, falls into roughly two parts. The first uses trumpet motives, and the second drum and gunfire sounds. The texture remains quite consistently in four voices. There are some meter changes, but the listener does not perceive discrete sections. 

Iberian organ battles, on the other hand, are distinctly sectional. The texture varies between full block chords and the battle ensemble depiction of solo voice over triads (on the organ these can also appear under the chords). Meter changes often delimit the sections. The unique shape and style of Iberian battle music developed due to the influence of three musical elements exclusive to Spain and Portugal and their colonies in the western hemisphere. These are the villancico, the ensalada, and the particular direction Iberian organ builders took with their creations.

 

The impact of the villancico, ensalada, and Iberian organ developments

The first of these influences, the villancico, vilancete in Portuguese, is a song form. Villancicos had vernacular text, folk melodies, and an energetic rhythmic style replete with syncopation, hemiola, and meter changes. The villancico was strophic with a refrain (estribillo) and sometimes many verses (coplas). Villancico-like characteristics in the organ battles may include changing meters, hemiola, and a dance-like 3+3+2 rhythm that often appears at cadences (Example 6).

At first a secular form, the villancico moved into the realm of liturgy as devotional coplas were created to accompany estribillos that often remained secular. It became customary to perform these following each lesson at Vespers and during the elevation of the Host during the Mass.¹² Buelow suggests that battle pieces, closely related to the villancicos as they were, would also have been performed at the same points in the Mass.¹³ Phillip II of Spain banned the performance of villancicos in his chapel in 1596, but his complaint apparently was that they were sung in Spanish rather than Latin, and not that they were too spirited. The rest of the Iberian peninsula ignored this prohibition, and the villancico remained popular in Spanish and Latin American churches until the 19th century.

A popular theme for villancicos was the battle between good and evil. A song might depict a battle between the Virgin or the newborn Christ Child and Lucifer. Often the battle image might become more worldly. One example from mid-17th century Coimbra begins with a symbolic battle between divine and worldly love, but then turns into a skirmish between Portuguese and Spanish troops. Amid the repeated cries of “Long live divine love!” comes the text:

 

Viva el Amor divino 

Que nos ha quitado 

la prisión esquiva

De un ciego traidor.   

 

Praise the divine Love

Who has rid us

Of the unreachable prison

Of a blind traitor.

 

It is not surprising that some images of actual war might creep into the texts of sacred music. During the 17th century, Portugal was often at war, both battling for political separation from Spain and sparring with Spain in the western hemisphere, as they divided up the Americas between them.

A second factor in the development of organ battle music was the ensalada. The word means “salad,” and in fact the ensalada was a hodge-podge, a kind of musical revue made up of hymns and villancicos, sometimes acted out. These were performed on feast days and were especially popular at Christmas, New Year, and Epiphany. Ensaladas were sung and accompanied by an interesting variety of wind instruments, all of them loud. A composition might specify two trumpets and a schalmei, although the oboe and organ were also popular. 

Because the ensalada was made up of a variety of individual pieces, it was by definition a sectional music form. Spanish keyboard music already had a sectional genre, the tiento, one based on imitation similar to the Italian ricercar. Organists had simply to move from accompanying an ensalada to writing one for the organ alone. Ricercar-like imitation, usually at the octave, appears in some battles (Example 7), and authors often include battles in discussions of the tiento.

The third factor to influence the development of Iberian organ battle music was the instrument itself. At the beginning of the 16th century, Spanish and Portuguese organs were constructed by Flemish organ builders and were the same as those in other parts of Europe. Flemish practices continued in the Catalonian region of Spain, but in Castile and Portugal local organ builders took the instrument in a new direction. 

One difference was the divided manual, or medio registro. Each half of the manual, from middle C down and from middle C# up, could have its own registration. This allowed a small instrument much more variety than it might have with just one setting for the entire manual. Composers wrote pieces for medio registro with one hand soloing and the other playing an accompaniment. On a medio registro instrument, an organist could use different registrations to create an echo effect with this type of imitation. In the battles we often see paired imitation with a figure played first in one octave and then in another (Example 8).

Another improvement was the swell box, which appears to have been developed in Spain before anywhere else in Europe.¹⁵ Some of the enclosed pipes included reeds. The swell could potentially create echo effects without changes of octave or registration (Example 9). Some Spanish organs of the 17th century even had devices that allowed quick change of registration, although this was by no means universal. 

Organs became more versatile as organ makers learned to build pipes that imitated the sounds of other instruments. Pipes might do a credible job of mimicking the bassoon, the oboe, buzzing reed instruments such as the crumhorn, schalmei, and dulzian, and trumpets in all registers. The organ could play these sounds with more volume and a greater range than could performers on the actual instruments, sounding a death knell for these players who until that time had been highly valued. 

During the 17th century organ builders began to place trumpet-shaped reed pipes horizontally for more brilliant tonal effect and visual beauty. Almost every battle has at least one solo that might have been played on horizontal reeds against a background of a quieter reed chorus (Example 10). However, Doderer believes that organists would also have used horizontal reeds for dense chordal passages, creating a truly immense volume of sound (Example 11).

Not all Iberian organs were equipped with accessory stops to simulate percussion instruments as was the one at Lérida Cathedral (it also had bells and six different birdsongs). However, composers definitely assumed that performers would imitate this effect through articulation. Batalha famoza includes an instruction to play the left hand quickly in order to imitate musket fire (Example 12). Possibly this could be turned into a special effect, since the full sound of a pipe might not speak when played with a very short stroke.

These organs had fewer pedals than do modern ones. Organs surviving from the 17th century generally have from one to three pedals that might play C, F, and/or G, depending on the organ’s basic pitch (some were based on 24′ F stops rather than the 16′ C stops common in Germany).

 

Performance considerations

Developing insight into the trumpet sounds Iberian organists were emulating in their compositions throws new light on how this music should be played. The triadic accompaniment to a solo line should not hide in the background, but sound like a trumpet chorus. The organist can phrase a fanfare or battle call so that it sounds as if an actual trumpeter were playing it.

Understanding the organ of the time provides additional clues to bringing this music to life. Sutton suggests using an organ with at least two manuals to create the contrast that one medio registro keyboard could generate.¹⁷ Use pedals sparingly, since the organs for which the battles were written could only play sustained notes in common cadence pitches. One registration possibility would be a strong solo reed and bright reed chorus contrasted with full organ at sectional divisions. Barbara Owen suggests avoiding gaps in the registration or allowing it to become too foundational or too top-heavy.

Battle music remains a satisfying part of the organ literature today. Because their trumpet fanfares and battle signal motives persist as part of our aural culture, modern audiences still respond to this sound. Today we use battle music in concert rather than as liturgical repertoire, since tastes in church music have changed. However, battle music might make a satisfying postlude on a festive occasion, much as this music was used four centuries ago. 

 

Notes

1. Mary Ellen Sutton, A study of the 17th-century Iberian organ batalla (Ann Arbor: UMI, 1978), 142–143.

2. Gerhard Doderer, Orgelmusik und Orgelbau im Portugal des 17. Jahrhunderts: Unteruchungen an Hand des MS 964 d. Biblioteca Pública in Braga (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1978), 198–199.

3. Sutton, Iberian organ batalla, 92.

4. Josep Elías wrote on the title page of a collection of the master’s works, “Ante ruet mundus quam surget Cabanilles secundus.” George J. Buelow, A History of Baroque Music (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004), 382.

5. Mary Jane Corry, “A Spanish-Austrian Battle.” Music/The AGO and RCCO Magazine (March 1970), 35.

6. Sutton, Iberian organ batalla, 65.

7. Cesare Bendinelli, The Entire Art of Trumpet Playing (1614), trans. Edward H. Tarr (Nashville: The Brass Press, 1975), 12.

8. Monteverdi provides a written-out example of the trumpet ensemble in the Toccata that opens his opera, Orfeo, 1607. See Example 13.

9. James South, “References to trumpet music in the battle chansons of Clément Janequin.” DMA diss., University of North Texas, 1990. RILM Abstracts of Music Literature, EBSCOhost.

10. Renaissance trumpets were generally pitched between modern B and F.

11. Walton, Clifford, History of the British Standing Army, A.D. 1660–1700 (London: Harrison and Sons, 1894), p. 467.

12. Buelow, History of Baroque Music, 371.

13. Ibid., 380.

14. Manuel Carlos De Brito, “A Little-Known Collection of Portuguese Baroque Villancicos and Romances,” Royal Musical Association Research Chronicle, No. 15 (1979), 17–37. Translation by Dr. Miguel Chuaqui, Professor of Composition at the University of Utah.

15. Douglas Earl Bush and Richard Kassel, eds., The Organ: An Encyclopedia (New York: Taylor and Francis, 2005), 548.

16. Doderer, Orgelmusik und Orgelbau, 203.

17. Sutton, Iberian organ batalla, 123.

18. Barbara Owen, The Registration of Baroque Organ Music (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 130–134. 

April 12–15, New College and All Souls College, Oxford University

Calvert Johnson

Calvert Johnson is the Charles A. Dana Professor of Music and college organist at Agnes Scott College (Atlanta) and organist at First Presbyterian Church, Marietta, Georgia. He earned the doctorate at Northwestern University. He has performed throughout the U.S., Mexico, Europe, and Japan, and is known for his multicultural programming including works by women, blacks, Asians, and Hispanics. He is the author of critically acclaimed volumes on Spain, England, and Italy in the series Historical Organ Techniques and Repertoire: An Historical Survey of Organ Performance Practices and Repertoire, Wayne Leupold Editions. During his sabbatical leave in 2007 he is preparing accompanying recordings for the English and Italian volumes, and writing the two Dutch volumes and a new scholarly edition of Frescobaldi’s Fiori musicali.

Oxford’s mild early spring weather and sunny skies welcomed conference delegates from eight European countries and the United States to a splendid conference on the organ in Tudor England, organized by Katharine Pardee (Betts Scholar in Organ Studies, Brookman Organ Scholar, Wadham College, Oxford University). What better location for such a conference than a town full of architectural spaces and layout where music of the 16th century could be discussed and performed in settings of the period?
The centerpieces of the conference were the two reproduction organs built by Goetze and Gwynn, using as a basis the two soundboards of two organs found in Suffolk at Wetheringsett and Wingfield. The former had been reassigned as a dairy door for a 17th-century house, and the latter had been stored with abandoned pews and aging lumber in the shed of a church. The very successful and convincing five-foot instruments are a testament to the scholarship and sleuthing carried out by Dominic Gwynn and Martin Goetze on every imaginable source of information on the organ in England, and more broadly in Europe in the late 15th to the early 17th centuries. Thus it was fitting that the first day’s presentations were devoted to the topic of early English organs and to “The Early English Organ Project.”

Day one
In two sessions, John Harper and Gwynn jointly presented each of the reproduction organs in turn. Harper opened with a discussion of existing English organs (or fragments thereof) from the period. In addition to the two Suffolk soundboards, they include a stained glass window at Beauchamp Chapel of St. Mary’s, Warwick (1447), the organ cases of Old Radnor and Magdalen College, Oxford,1 a handful of unaltered pipes from the Chair organ of Magdalen College, surviving stoplists, and numerous written accounts mentioning organs in church and court inventories, wills, and indentures. Most helpful was Harper’s explanation of these organs as transposing organs in order to accompany choirs, that is, low C on the keyboard actually sounded F a perfect fourth higher (in terms of 8¢ pitch; a perfect fifth lower in terms of 4¢ pitch). Given that the organs of the period were also pitched higher than A-440, the resulting pitch when playing low C would actually be closer to G, a fifth higher, or possibly approaching G#.
Gwynn explained that the soundboards provided considerable evidence about the original organs. The toe holes indicated the layout of the pipes and location of the ranks, but also which ranks and the pipe widths as well. Hence it was clear that doubled ranks were the norm, as indicated in surviving stoplists of the period. The Wetheringsett soundboard indicated further that a duplicate Fifteenth rank had been prepared for (pilot holes drilled for the toe holes), but had been replaced by a Regal, for which the air had been ducted to stand behind the façade pipes in order that the pipes might be easily tuned from the front. The soundboards also indicated the dimensions of the pallets and sliders. The façade principals of the Wingfield organ lacked sliders, so they were permanently on.
In a presentation related to the Wingfield organ, Madeleine Katkov discussed medieval polychromy, of which hundreds of examples are preserved from the Middle Ages in East Anglia in churches and on church furnishings and decorative pieces. She demonstrated the methods used to prepare the paints, the choices of colors, and the styles of application, including stenciling. She chose the most common color scheme for the Wingfield organ pipes and case: alternating red and green separated by a white background. She chose a predominantly Marian theme in the design elements; for example the prominent W topped with a crown actually is a double V (for Virgin of Virgins), and the stylized M is actually an M containing an A to the left and an R to the right for “Ave Maria Regina.” Katkov is an independent conservator specializing in painted architectural surfaces, particularly of medieval churches.
To provide a better understanding of the architectural setting of the conference, Barrie Clark gave a presentation on late medieval and Reformation-era architecture in Oxford, and showed what was in place in 1600 before a number of buildings had been constructed—buildings familiar to contemporary visitors. Clark is an architect with English Heritage, with a special interest in organ preservation in historic churches in Britain and Europe.
The first day’s program concluded with a compelling concert of sacred and secular music from the early Tudor court and chapel. Kimberly Marshall of Arizona State University used the Wingfield organ masterfully and expressively as she played an In nomine by John Taverner, a Gloria tibi trinitas by John Blitheman, and an organ intabulation of Walter Frye’s Tout a par moy chanson. Emily Van Evera assembled a stellar quartet of singers who all specialize in early vocal and choral music to perform trios and quartets from Henry VIII’s manuscript and the Ritson manuscript. In addition, Marshall collaborated with the vocal ensemble in an alternatim performance of a Te Deum and an anonymous setting of Bina caelestis, both from the Tomkins manuscript. (Van Evera herself has been a member of the Taverner Players, Musicians of Swanne Alley, and Gothic Voices. Rogers Covey-Crump is a member of the Hilliard Ensemble; Daniel Auchincloss performs with the King’s Consort, Gabrieli Consort, and Le Concert Spirituel as well as many opera companies; and Stephen Charlesworth sings with the Tallis Scholars, Gothic Voices, Monteverdi Choir, and Taverner Choir, among other well-known vocal ensembles.) Although the four had not performed together as an ensemble prior to this concert, their performance was impeccable, showing the result of years of living with historic performance practices and skilled ensemble singing.

Day two
The second day was devoted to the role of the English organ in the pre- and post-Reformation era, as well as its place in medieval philosophy. Unfortunately the first speaker was ill (Diarmaid MacCulloch). In lieu of his paper on damage in churches done by the Puritans during the English Reformation, Peter Williams led a spirited discussion about the concert the evening before. John Harper followed with a detailed and very engaging study of the extant evidence of music in the pre-Reformation liturgy in cathedrals especially, and demonstrated that the surviving organ and choral music reflects the requirements for music (genres such as Mass Ordinary, Lady Mass propers, Office hymns and response). It is entirely desirable that he publish his book as soon as possible: Sacred Pipes and Voices: organs and their relationship to the liturgy choral institutions, and musical repertoires in Britain, c. 1480–1700.
Oxford historian of science and medicine Allan Chapman gave one of the finest of the conference presentations, on the organ as representative of medieval intellectual and spiritual technology. Chapman reminded us of the importance of music in the quadrivium—the fields of higher learning as sciences of proportion linked to the music of the spheres. Scholars and inventors needed to express the perfection of God’s world, and developed elaborate machines and instruments such as the astrolabe and the clock in order to keep track of time (including the movement of the sun in dark periods of the year when it was difficult for astronomers to see it) in order to observe all the required masses and offices. The organ similarly reflected the perfection of God along with polyphony and demonstrated reason and the wisdom of God to delight worshippers, performers, and the divinity.
Dana Marsh, a doctoral student at Oxford, next shared with us portions of his dissertation (Music, Church and Henry VIII’s Reformation), focusing on royal occasions for worship (royal processional entrances to cathedrals, coronations, funerals), the chants mentioned in conjunction with these services, and the participation in performances by voices and instruments, including the organ.
In spite of the dearth of documentation concerning the organs and their use at Westminster Abbey, David Knight shared with us a full listing of what direct evidence there is and fleshed out the picture with corresponding information drawn from other English collegiate churches. The earliest record dates from 1240 when Henry III paid for organ repairs. While there were new organs built and repairs made from the 14th to the 16th centuries, the number of organs declined in the late 16th century. Knight is the conservation assistant at the Council for the Care of Churches of the Church of England, and organist and choirmaster of Crown Court Church of Scotland.
Sherlock Holmes would have congratulated David Shuker, a professor from Leicestershire of organic chemistry at the Open University in Milton Keynes. Following up on a mention in a 1789 issue of The Gentleman’s Magazine of an organ with a Gothic case found at the collegiate church of St. Bartholomew in Tong, Shropshire, Shuker laid out the course of his investigation and the tantalizing evidence that has simply disappeared. If he should discover the organ case, it might be the fourth surviving early English organ.
The day’s presentations concluded with services organized by John Harper so that we might experience something akin to the pre-Reformation use of organ, chant and split chancel choir, while not actually reconstructing these services. We sang Latin Vespers for Friday in the Octave of Easter according to the pre-Reformation Use of Sarum in the Ante-Chapel of New College, and Latin Compline for Eastertide according to the pre-Reformation Use of Salisbury in the Chapel of All Souls College. Leading us were the Rev. Dr. Simon Jones, organist Christian Wilson, and members of the vocal ensemble Sospiri, seated in decani and cantori formation, with the rest of the conference delegates scattered behind the singers on either side. Fortunately, Harper provided us with the entire text and music clearly written out with designations as to which side of the choir was to sing when.

Day three
The emphasis on Saturday was performance practices of organ music before 1600. John Caldwell (Emeritus Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford) discussed the possibility that some music in the Mulliner Book was intended for the Offices. Jane Flynn of Leeds College of Music made a compelling case that the Mulliner Book consists of contrapuntal writing, showing that the material is organized in pedagogical order along the lines of the counterpoint methods of Lodovico Zacconi and Thomas Morley involving improvisation, and noting that some of the anonymous pieces may actually be Thomas Mulliner’s own attempts at the level of counterpoint exhibited by the surrounding pieces. Magnus Williamson, a music lecturer at Newcastle University, continued the discussion of the Mulliner Book and also Add. MS. 29996 at the British Library—the primary sources of English organ music in the 16th century. He discussed other sources in castle, church and cathedral archives that mention the use of the organ in worship services, notably Lady Masses, drawing connections between the improvised tradition of the 15th century and the composed pre-Reformation repertoires of the 16th century. A recent master’s graduate of Oxford, Christian Wilson, continued the theme of improvisation in the context of alternatim 16th-century English masses. Andrew Johnstone, a lecturer in music at Trinity College, Dublin, gave a valuable explanation of English choir pitch, which also had been touched upon by John Harper and Magnus Williamson, as well as the implications for transposition to accompany choirs in the context of alternatim services. This session concluded with Kimberly Marshall’s beautifully performed recital on the Wetheringsett organ in New College’s Ante-Chapel, featuring English and related continental organ music of the 16th and 17th centuries.
Following a much-needed coffee break during which many sought and found the tombstone of Robert Dallam in the cloister, the group gathered in the MacGregor-Matthews room for a variety of topics. Richard Hird, author of the acclaimed booklet Durham Cathedral Organs, gave a history of the organs at Durham Cathedral and its former Benedictine monastery St. Cuthbert. During the Tudor period there were three organs in the Choir: one on the screen above the Jesus altar in the center of the nave, one on the right, and one on the left. Interestingly, a dean of the cathedral married the sister of John Calvin, so the organs were all removed after 1561.
Paola Dessì of the University of Bologna discussed the very early English “organum” made by Aethelwold, the 10th-century Bishop of Winchester, “with his own hands.” While she provided a good presentation on documents to support her thesis that Aethelwold introduced the pipe organ to England, Peter Williams stressed problems with the word “organum,” which might refer to some other musical instrument entirely, possibly a wind instrument.
Joan Jeffrey, a retired secondary school teacher who is now a senior lecturer at Canterbury Christ Church College of Education [University], gave a most interesting paper on the presence of more than 80 organs in the coastal communities of Kent before the dissolution of the monasteries and eventual removal of organs from parish churches by 1571 with the exception of Faversham. The day’s program concluded with a superbly constructed concert performed by Musica Humana, Oxford, directed by Dana Marsh with Christian Wilson on the organ. The concert included examples of alternatim mass movements by Nicholas Ludford and an anonymous late 15th-century mass from York with improvised versets provided by Wilson, and an anonymous Te Deum from the Gyffard Part Books with alternatim organ verses by John Blytheman. The choral singing throughout the program was well balanced and expressive of the formal construction of the various motets, and about as perfectly tuned as could be desired. My favorites on the program were Mater Christi sanctissima by John Taverner, “Candidi facti sunt” from Thomas Tallis’s Cantiones Sacrae, and Omnes gentes plaudite minibus by Christopher Tye. Marsh’s conducting gave clear cues and beat to the choir without getting in the way of the singers. Wilson’s improvisations were certainly in the appropriate style, and his playing of the organ works was clean and accurate, with virtuosic display that contributed to the overall effect rather than drawing attention to the performer. Especially fine were William Byrd’s Fantasia in D Minor and Thomas Preston’s Felix namque.

Day four
Sunday morning was a bit of a catchall, though mainly about organs. Dominic Gwynn discussed the life, training, and professional routine of the London-based Tudor organ builder John Clymhowe, who apparently converted to the evangelical faith in the 1530s while maintaining his profession of building organs for Roman Catholic churches. José Hopkins, honorary secretary of the British Institute of Organ Studies, discussed the use of music at King’s College Cambridge on the occasion of the visit of Queen Elizabeth I in 1564 and again in 1571, contrasting the use of the organs and choral music as Cambridge became increasingly a bastion of the Calvinists within the Church of England. Hopkins discussed Elizabeth I’s defense of the Mass, while both English and Latin texts were sung, some with organ alternatim. Martin Renshaw, a professional singer and organbuilder in Normandy, discussed the removal of the organ from English parish churches during the Reformation, and the unexpected opportunities for the instrument as it was diverted to secular repertoires. One of the leading authorities on the history of musical instruments, Jeremy Montagu, gave a compelling presentation of the late 14th-century crozier of William of Wykeham that is kept in the nearby nave of New College Chapel with its beautiful and realistic sculptures in silver of a wide variety of musical instruments being played. Fittingly, Alexandra Buckle of Worcester College Oxford presented her dissertation research on the use of music at Beauchamp Chapel, Warwick, clearly the finest medieval chapel in England. Among the depictions of musical instruments is a splendid stained glass representation of a medieval English organ similar to the Wetheringsett organ built by Goetze and Gwynn.
Katharine Pardee organized a truly exceptional conference, guided by experts in the field of early English organs including Peter Williams, John Harper, Dominic Gwynn, Melvin Hughes, and many others. The papers were of a very high quality, the musical performances excellent, and the liturgical services compelling. Unlike many conferences, this one provided much to think about and to discuss during the question and answer periods and breaks between sessions. We all look forward to the next conference, which will focus on the subsequent period during the reigns of the Stuarts and Hanoverians. While the leading English authorities on Tudor organs and organ music were present, very few Americans were in attendance, perhaps because this organ repertoire is not so well known or loved, or because of the decline in the value of the dollar relative to the pound. However, English 17th- and 18th-century voluntaries are well known and frequently played by organists in North America and England, and the next conference should be of interest to all organists. It will be held April 10–13, 2008, at Merton College, Oxford University, and the conference registration fee will probably again include lodging and most meals, making it a real bargain. There will likely be a London “organ crawl” the day before the conference (April 9).

 

Three Decades of Building Organs in Lake City, Iowa

John A. Panning

John A. Panning is tonal director of Dobson Pipe Organ Builders. A native of Wisconsin, he worked for two years with Hammes-Foxe Organs, Inc. in the Milwaukee area prior to joining Dobson in 1984. In these twenty years, he has been involved in every facet of pipe organ design, construction and maintenance. Mr. Panning has served two terms as Secretary of the American Institute of Organbuilders, and is currently a member of the AIO Journal committee. He was a member of the National Council of the Organ Historical Society from 1985–1991, and has served on two OHS convention committees. He has been North American Editor of Publications for the International Society of Organbuilders since 1991.

Thirty years ago this month, Lynn Dobson opened an organ building workshop in Lake City. Three decades later, clients from near and far have made the journey to this small western Iowa town.

Lynn A. Dobson, founder of the Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, was born in Carroll, Iowa, in 1949, and grew up on a farm in nearby Lanesboro. In 1966, he received a scholarship from the Hill Foundation to attend the Minneapolis School of Art summer session for gifted students. He graduated from Wayne State College in Wayne, Nebraska, in 1971 with majors in art and industrial education. During his college years, he built a twelve-stop mechanical-action organ in a shed on the family farm; this organ, Op. 1 (II/15), was eventually sold to Our Savior’s Lutheran Church in Sioux City, Iowa, where it still serves today. Upon graduation, Dobson taught high school art in Plattsmouth, Nebraska. However, the desire to be involved with organ building persisted, and in 1974 he left teaching to work for the Hendrickson Organ Company of St. Peter, Minnesota. In November 1974, he established his own firm, opening a small shop at 120 West Main Street in Lake City, Iowa.

What follows is a chronicle of the more important dates in the company’s history, a big-picture overview of three decades of art and craft as practiced by an increasingly prominent Midwestern American organ builder.

1975 ~ The young company’s first contract comes from one of Dobson’s former teachers, Antony Garlick, a music professor and composer at Wayne State College. The ten-stop residence organ incorporates both new and revoiced pipework. When Garlick moved in 1986, he sold the organ to Mary Brooks of Doylestown, Pennsylvania. In 1998, she in turn sold it to The Church of the Holy Spirit in Harleysville, Pennsylvania, and Dobson was once again called upon to move the organ, making several additions to suit its new, larger home. In his first year of business, Dobson is accepted as a member of the American Institute of Organbuilders (AIO).

1976 ~ Olivet Congregational Church, St. Paul, Minnesota, signs a contract for Op. 4 (II/33). The organ’s donor gave his gift to the church on the condition that it help launch the business of a promising young organ builder. At this time Lynn Dobson was assisted by his father Elmer Dobson, Jon Thieszen, who first began as summer help during college and would later become the company’s technical designer, and voicer Robert Sperling, a former co-worker at Hendrickson. The resulting instrument is a monumental achievement for so young a firm.

1979 ~ The company moves to its current location at 200 North Illinois Street, completely renovating the historic building and adding an erecting room with a 30¢ ceiling. In addition to instruments built for area churches, Dobson receives commissions from two Minnesota colleges as the decade closes. The first is a small studio organ for St. Olaf College (Op. 8, II/7; 1978). The second Minnesota institution, Bethany Lutheran College in Mankato, commissions an organ for its chapel (Op. 10, II/21; 1979), located in the school’s historic Old Main building. Op. 10 enjoys wide attention in organ journals. In 1996 it undergoes some tonal additions (increasing its size to 24 ranks) and receives a dramatic revision to its case to better suit its second home, Bethany’s new Trinity Chapel.

1980 ~ The decade opens with larger and more diverse projects, including one less than a block from the original Main Street shop: Lake City Union Church purchases a two-manual instrument (Op. 13, II/29; 1980). Dobson is engaged by Westminster Presbyterian Church of Des Moines, Iowa, to complete the organ (Op. 14, II/38; 1981) left unfinished by Lawrence Phelps Associates after that firm’s insolvency. Nearby Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, contracts for a practice organ (Op. 16, II/3; 1981) and a teaching studio organ (Op. 21, II/18; 1982). The capabilities of the shop were enlarged during this period by several new employees, among them Tom Kult, a skilled cabinetmaker who later becomes shop foreman; David Storey, an organ builder who had previously worked for Jim McFarland in Pennsylvania; and Lake City native Sally Winter, secretary. Robert Sperling becomes full-time voicer. The firm is accepted for membership in the International Society of Organbuilders and is invited to join the Associated Pipe Organ Builders of America (APOBA); Lynn Dobson is elected to the AIO Board of Directors.

1983 ~ The completion of large two-manual organs for the Church of St. Michael in Stillwater, Minnesota (Op. 23, II/34; 1983) and First Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, Kansas (Op. 24, II/43; 1983) are harbingers of Dobson’s expansion into the rest of the country. Op. 24 is the largest organ built by the firm to date, and is the first organ in the United States to employ a “dual” stop action, one that can be operated mechanically by the organist as well as electrically through a solid-state combination action.

1984 ~ John Panning, an organ builder from Wisconsin, joins the crew this year; he is later appointed the firm’s tonal director. The shop is remodeled and enlarged at this time to accommodate the fabrication of mechanical key action parts and console chassis. In November, the firm celebrates its 10th anniversary with an open house and a recital by Guy Bovet on Op. 13 at Lake City Union Church; hundreds of clients and friends of the company attend.

1985 ~ Op. 28 (II/30; 1985), for The Church of the Holy Comforter in Burlington, North Carolina, is the first of many Dobson instruments to be located outside of the Midwest. From 1985 to 1990, the firm builds twenty new organs in Pennsylvania, New York, North Carolina and Virginia, in addition to five Midwestern states. Eight are for universities and colleges, of which five are institutions affiliated with church bodies: Bethel College, North Newton, Kansas (Op. 27, II/19; 1985), St. Olaf College, Northfield, Minnesota (Op. 29, II/30; 1985), Augsburg College, Minneapolis, Minnesota (Op. 42, III/44; 1988), Calvin College, Grand Rapids, Michigan (Op. 44, III/49; 1989), and Wartburg Theological Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa (Op. 46, II/15; 1989). Op. 42 and 44 are both for new college chapels designed in cooperation with Dobson. New shop personnel by the end of this decade include Meridith Sperling (pipe racking, general organ building), Lyndon Evans and Randy Hausman (cabinetmakers), Dean Heim (general organ building, and later shop foreman), Art Middleton (key action and consoles) and Bob Savage (leatherwork and electrical). Dobson hosts the annual spring meeting of APOBA, during which the firm is elected president.

1989 ~ The first AIO Midyear Seminar is held at the Dobson shop. Twenty organ builders from across the country participate in lectures on case design and construction, cost accounting, shop administration and equipment. By this time the firm is well known for its artistic and innovative organ case design.

1990 ~ Gradual evolution of the firm’s tonal style continues. Although specialized instruments such as the organ in Italian style for Indiana University (Op. 35, II/26; 1987) have been built, most are of eclectic design. Earlier instruments explored the neo-classic aesthetic; new projects blend both classical and romantic influences. Op. 44 (1989) at Calvin College includes a 16¢ Open Wood in the Pedal, two enclosed divisions and a rich, smooth tonal palette. Joining the firm this year are Kirk Russell (business manager) and Dean Zenor, an organ builder from Connecticut.

1992 ~ Two instruments built this year demonstrate the firm’s range. Op. 55 (II/32) for St. John Lutheran Church in Storm Lake, Iowa, features Kirnberger III tuning, dual wind systems (a wedge bellows for flexible wind, a parallel-rise bellows and wind stabilizers for steady wind) and a freestanding case with attached console at the rear of the church. The chancel location and Anglican church music emphasis of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Kalamazoo, Michigan, result in Op. 57’s (II/42) more romantic tonal design. Op. 56 (II/17), for Trinity Lutheran Church, Manhattan Beach, California, is the first Dobson installation on the West Coast. The firm is incorporated as Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Ltd., a new 4,500 sq. ft. wood shop is built, and a pipe shop is set up. The company becomes a prize sponsor for the National Improvisation Competition of the American Guild of Organists.

1993 ~ Op. 60 (III/49) for First United Methodist Church, Mesa, Arizona, the firm’s seventh three-manual instrument, features a Solo as the third manual rather than a more customary Positive or Choir. Voiced on 6≤ wind pressure with mechanical action, this division includes an 8¢ Harmonic Flute, 4¢ Flute Octaviante, Cornet V, and 8¢ Bombarde, all under expression except for the Cornet, which is mounted outside the Solo enclosure.

1995 ~ The mid-’90s see an even wider variety of projects, ranging from Op. 62 (II/11; 1994), a residence organ for Rich Wanner in Berkeley, California, to the 1996 renovation of the important four-manual 1959 Schlicker organ at Valparaiso University, Valparaiso, Indiana, and its enlargement to 102 ranks. Other notable organs delivered are Op. 65 (II/36; 1995) for the University of South Carolina, Columbia, South Carolina, Op. 67 (II/32; 1996) for Wartburg College, Waverly, Iowa, and Op. 69 (II/31; 1997) for Pakachoag Church, Auburn, Massachusetts. Voicer and pipemaker William Ayers joins the firm during these years.

1998 ~ The organ for St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, (Op. 70, II/45) unabashedly combines classical and romantic tonal elements in a fresh and original way. This same line is followed in the large three-manual instrument for West Market Street Methodist Church in Greensboro, North Carolina (Op. 71, III/58; 1999), voiced in collaboration with Los Angeles organ builder Manuel Rosales. A somewhat more classical course is taken with the instrument at St. Joseph Abbey in St. Benedict, Louisiana (Op. 73, III/38; 2000), which is greatly enhanced by the Abbey church’s five seconds of reverberation. Joining the firm by the end of the decade are Scott Hicks (general organ building), Gerrid Otto (windchests, general organ building), John Ourensma (voicing, pipemaking) and Randall Pepe (wood pipemaking and general organ building).

2000 ~ The firm’s work at the beginning of a new century includes the monumental instrument for the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles, California (Op. 75, IV/105; 2003) and the company’s first contract for a major concert hall, Verizon Hall in Philadelphia’s Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts (Op. 76, IV/125; 2006), the new home of the Philadelphia Orchestra. These high-profile projects bring Dobson into collegial working relationships with world-famous architects: José Rafael Moneo for the cathedral project and Rafael Viñoly for the concert hall.

2003 ~ Not to be lost among the contracts for immense organs are instruments of more normal size delivered to churches and universities in Delaware, Illinois, and Minnesota. Op. 78 (III/42) for St. John’s Methodist Church in Augusta is Dobson’s first instrument in Georgia, housed in an elegant cherrywood case with carved pipeshades. Joining the firm during the first years of the century are Antal Kozma (technical design) and Donny Hobbs (general organ building, voicing, pipemaking).

2004 ~ Op. 80 (II/26), for St. Paul’s Church, Rock Creek Parish, Washington, D.C., was set up and played in Lake City during a 30th anniversary open house. To further celebrate, a festive reception for friends of the company was held during the Los Angeles AGO convention following Martin Jean’s recital on Op. 75 at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. The second phase of the installation of Op. 76 (IV/125) in Verizon Hall takes place during the summer, while Op. 79 (II/23), for Shepherd of the Bay Lutheran Church, Ellison Bay, Wisconsin, is installed in the fall. Ongoing design work includes a significant concert hall instrument for the new Atlanta Symphony Center, designed by famed architect Santiago Calatrava of Zürich. Instruments for the Chapel of the Cross in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and the Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, give the shop a small respite between these large projects.

Since 1994, the daily operation of the shop has been under the direction of a management team consisting of Lynn Dobson (president and artistic director), John Panning (tonal director), Jon Thieszen (technical designer), Dean Heim (shop foreman), Dean Zenor (project manager) and Kirk Russell (business manager).

News, specifications of every organ, and many photographs can be found on Dobson’s website at

<www.dobsonorgan.com&gt;.

Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Ltd.

William Ayers, 1994, voicer, pipemaker

Mitch Clark, 2004, technical designer

Lynn A. Dobson, 1974, president and artistic director

Lyndon Evans, 1988, cabinetmaker

Randy Hausman, 1988, cabinetmaker

Dean Heim, 1988, shop foreman, general organbuilding

Scott Hicks, 1997, general organbuilding

Donny Hobbs, 2003, general organbuilding, voicing

Antal Kozma, 2001, technical designer

Arthur Middleton, 1987, machinist, key action, wood pipes

Gerrid D. Otto, 1998, windchests, general organbuilding

John Ourensma, 1999, voicer, pipemaker

John A. Panning, 1984, tonal director, voicer

Kirk P. Russell, 1990, business manager

Robert Savage, 1989, leatherwork, electrical, general organbuilding

Meridith Sperling, 1985, windchests, general organbuilding

Jon H. Thieszen, 1975, technical designer

Sally J. Winter, 1983, accounting and secretarial

Dean C. Zenor, 1990, key action, administrative

Andover Organ Company, 

Lawrence, Massachusetts

Opus R-345, Christ Episcopal Church, Charlottesville, Virginia

From the builder

In projects, journeys, and lives, there are milestone events that mark progress or achievements. The dedication of Andover Opus R-345 at Christ Episcopal Church in Charlottesville, Virginia, was such an event. It was a milestone for three long journeys: the completion of a seven-year project for Andover; the culmination of a decade-long sanctuary renovation process for Christ Church; and the latest chapter in the 143-year odyssey of a resilient New England organ.

With their simplicity and durability, it is not unusual for well-made old tracker organs to outlast the buildings or congregations for which they were originally made. Happily, they can often be relocated and repurposed to fit the musical needs and budget of a new owner. At Andover, we tune and maintain a large number of 19th-century instruments which are now in their second, third, or fourth homes.

The saga of the Christ Church organ certainly illustrates this! The core of the instrument is a three-manual, 29-stop organ built in 1869 by E. & G. G. Hook of Boston as their Opus 472 and originally installed in Grace Episcopal Church in Chicago, Illinois. In 1902, it was moved to another Grace Episcopal Church, in Oak Park, Illinois. In 1922, it was sold to the Third Congregational Church of Oak Park, where it was rebuilt and electrified by Nicholas Doerr of Chicago. The organ was next moved to St. Ludmilla’s Catholic Church in Chicago, probably in 1937 when the Third Congregational Church merged with another congregation. When St. Ludmilla’s closed in 1991, the organ was put into storage. Andover’s Robert C. Newton, a nationally recognized authority on Hook organs, learned of the organ’s availability and purchased it. Opus 472 then made the long journey back to Massachusetts, where it sat in storage, awaiting its fifth home.

Meanwhile, Christ Church in Charlottesville, Virginia, had formed an organ committee to find a replacement for their failing 50-year-old electro-pneumatic organ. That organ had been cobbled together from a variety of used and new parts, and the builder had gone out of business before the organ was finished. Concurrently, plans were begun for a complete renovation of the sanctuary. After much study, the committee determined that the best location for the new instrument would be at the front of the church, to speak directly towards the congregation. This was confirmed by each builder that the committee interviewed during the selection process. 

Being responsible stewards of the church’s resources, the organ committee also researched the option of installing a rebuilt used organ. They determined that if the original organ was a well-made, quality instrument, the end result could be equal, or in some cases superior, to a new organ—yet at significantly less cost. John Whiteside, who became Christ Church’s music director in 2005, contacted us and learned of E. & G. G. Hook Opus 472. Built in 1869, the organ dated from the “golden period” (1850s–1870s) of the firm’s instruments. 

Because the organ had lost its original case, console, structure, action, and wind system during its travels, the surviving Hook pipes and windchests could easily be rearranged to fit the available space in Christ Church. The most essential parts of any organ are the pipes, which define its tonal signature, and the windchests, which influence how the pipes speak and blend.

The Hook firm was one of 19th-century America’s premier organ builders. Their instruments, highly regarded for their mechanical and tonal excellence, were designed and voiced to work well in the dry acoustics of American churches. Though we at Andover build modern instruments designed to serve the needs of today’s church musicians, we draw insight and inspiration from the surviving work of the brothers Elias (1805–1881) and George Greenleaf (1807–1880) Hook and their successor, Francis Hastings (1836–1916). We have been privileged to work on many of their important surviving instruments, including their monumental 101-rank 1875 masterpiece, Opus 801, at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston, and the famous 1876 “Centennial Exposition” organ, Opus 828, now in St. Joseph Cathedral in Buffalo.

After careful deliberation, the committee recommended that Christ Church purchase and install Hook Opus 472—which would be completely renovated, rebuilt, and enlarged by Andover—at the front of the church surrounding the rose window. This proposal was approved by the church’s vestry, and in April 2005 a contract was signed. 

The rebuilding work started in 2007, with Ben Mague as project team leader. The Hook pipes were restored and the windchests rebuilt and enlarged to accommodate additional stops. New and vintage ranks, scaled and voiced to be compatible with the original Hook stops, were added to augment the organ’s tonal palette. Ben Mague and Michael Eaton engineered a new console, structure, action, and wind system to fit the renovated chancel area. The new casework was designed by Donald Olson. Noted church architect Terry Eason prepared the plans for the sanctuary renovation.

The organ is laid out with the Swell on the left, the unenclosed Choir in the center, and the Great on the right. The Pedal stops are divided among these three locations. The bass of the Pedal reed is behind the Swell, its treble and all of the 16′ Subbass are behind the Choir, and the Double Open Diapasons are behind the Great. 

The organ’s white oak casework was built in our shop. We take great care to design the exterior of each instrument to complement the architecture of its surroundings. Thus, the blind Byzantine arches of the lower casework were patterned after the existing chancel side wall woodwork. The polished tin façade pipes comprise the lowest notes of the Great 8′ Open Diapason and the Pedal 8′ Violoncello. The detached oak console has walnut interior woodwork and a walnut swirl veneered music rack. The pau ferro drawknobs, with 19th-century-style oblique heads with inset engraved labels, are arranged in stepped terraces. The center-pivoted manual keys have bone-plated naturals and ebony sharps.

The manual key action is mechnical, as are all the couplers. To facilitate the positioning of the Pedal pipes in the most advantageous spaces, all of the Pedal stops are on electro-pneumatic unit chests that we designed and built. The stop action is electric. The Solid State Organ Systems combination action, with 100 memory levels and a piston sequencer, affords the player seamless control of the organ’s resources. 

While the rebuilding was underway, Christ Church’s rector departed for another parish. The church postponed the fund-raising for the sanctuary renovations and turned its attention to finding a new rector. Thankfully, during this period a parish donor continued to fund the organ’s rebuilding so the project would not lose momentum. 

The completed instrument was unveiled at an open house at our shop on November 6, 2010. Although the organ was ready, the church was not. Bids had not yet been received for the chancel renovations. It was discovered that part of a rock ledge beneath the chancel would have to be removed to permit excavation for a basement to house HVAC equipment and the organ blower. This increased the scope of the project.

The organ sat, playable, in our shop until May 2011 when, needing that space for other projects, we shipped it to Charlottesville and stored it in the church parish hall. The chancel renovations were finally begun in the fall of that year and nearly finished when we started the organ’s installation in January 2012. Parts of the organ were playable by Easter, when it was first used. The remaining flues and all the reeds were installed and regulated during the following months. On Friday evening, October 5, 2012, noted organ recitalist and recording artist Bruce Stevens played the dedicatory program to a large and excited congregation. It was a milestone event, the happy ending to a long road!

Just as a great organ is the sum of its parts, a great organ company is the sum of its people. We are blessed to have a team of seventeen dedicated craftspeople who, collectively, have over 400 years of organbuilding experience. Those who worked on Opus R-345 were Ryan Bartosiewicz, Matthew Bellocchio, Anne Doré, Michael Eaton, Don Glover, Al Hosman, Lisa Lucius, Benjamin Mague, David Michaud, Tony Miscio, Fay Morlock, John Morlock, Robert Newton, Donald Olson, Casey Robertson, Jonathan Ross, Craig Seaman, and David Zarges.

—Matthew M. Bellocchio

Andover Organ Company

Photos © William T. Van Pelt

 

Testimonials

It really is a wonderful organ! I’m playing everything from Franck to Rheinberger to Bach . . . and all of these different-style pieces sound really very fine. I find the key action quite graceful to play. Because so many of the sounds are the golden-period Hook sounds we love, we’re thrilled to have such an organ in Virginia—at long last. Thanks for all that you have done to provide this special, magnificent instrument to a location in our state. The only big disappointment is that it’s not here in Richmond!

—Bruce Stevens

University of Richmond

 

Thanks for the good work . . . and for giving Virginia an E. & G. G. Hook organ. I believe it is the only organ in the state to have most of its tonal components arising from the brothers Hook during their control of the company.

—William T. Van Pelt

Retired Executive Director 

Organ Historical Society