Craig R. Whitney

Craig R. Whitney, an organist since he was a teenager, worked as a reporter, foreign correspondent, and editor at The New York Times over forty-four years, retiring in 2009. Among his books is All the Stops: The Glorious Pipe Organ and Its American Masters (PublicAffairs, 2003).

The twenty-two-rank electro-pneumatic-action pipe organ designed and built by the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Co. of Boston, Massachusetts, for the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City and installed there in 1966 was taken out for a long-needed thorough rejuvenation over the summer by the Schantz Organ Company of Orrville, Ohio. The unique instrument with two manuals and 1,289 pipes in twelve voices and twenty-two ranks was whisked away from Lincoln Center to Ohio last April after undergirding that season’s final performance of Tosca. It was trucked back to New York and reinstalled backstage in the vast opera house at the end of August in a new steel-framed, wheeled enclosure, in time to give powerful support to orchestra and chorus in Tosca again starting October 4, in Peter Grimes a few days later, and Lohengrin in February.

The organ, Aeolian-Skinner’s Opus 1444, was the work of Joseph S. Whiteford when he was company chairman and tonal designer. Schantz made no tonal changes to the instrument, its vice president, Jeffrey Dexter, affirmed. “This was literally a restoration,” he told me. One of the Opera’s organists, Dan Saunders, summed up what had to be done this way, “We played it to death—it needed to be brought back to life.”

Thomas Lausmann, who became the Opera’s director of music administration at the start of the 2019–2020 season, soon heard about the organ’s problems from Douglass Hunt, who looks after organs all around New York City and has been the Metropolitan Opera’s organ technician for thirty-six years. “Doug was afraid that the two main reservoirs might fail,” Lausmann said. “I began to see that the organ was holding on, but for how long, we couldn’t know.” Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the Philadelphia Orchestra’s director who had taken on the additional position of music director at the Metropolitan Opera in 2018, heard about the problems and turned to a friend for advice. This was Frederick Haas, himself an organist and a director of his family’s Wyncote Foundation in Philadelphia who has steered major donations to the Philadelphia Orchestra and many other institutions. Historic organ preservation projects are high on the list. “I was always intrigued that the Metropolitan Opera had an organ, and I went up and played it,” Haas told me. “It is original—a weird specification, but then, the organ in an opera is supposed to be under and over the orchestra, not through it.” He agreed that if it needed a complete restoration, he would see to the cost. Wyncote has—all $500,000 of it.

In a sense, Whiteford’s design for the instrument was something of an experiment in the mid-1960s. Aeolian-Skinner and Whiteford had built a four-manual concert hall organ for Philharmonic Hall, next door to the Opera, in 1962, but the opera house did not need a huge instrument; it needed one that could reinforce and undergird full orchestra and chorus in some scenes, and delicately support soloists in others. Writing in The Diapason in 1965, he allowed that the company had produced “a two-manual plan which looks very strange on paper and it is probably the only one around with a 32 ft. reed.” Aeolian-Skinner came up with that plan after doing “a great deal of research” into how many operas called for an organ or harmonium, “a surprising number,” Whiteford admitted. “The organ for opera, in a sense, is like scenery—it is not a complete organ,” he wrote. This one, in his words, is “essentially a Bombarde Organ superimposed on a small but varied group of flue voices.”¹

The whole organ was housed in a single enclosure with swell shades on its front side, all on wheels so it could be moved around. But moving such a bulky and heavy instrument posed challenges, and it was instead planted permanently backstage, stage left (the right side, as seen from the audience) for most of fifty-six years, unseen—but heard, thanks to the ingenuity of the Opera’s technical staff and organists in coping with its peculiarities.

One of the first on the bench was the late John Francis Grady, who went on in 1970 to become organist and music director at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. He was asked then what it was like to play in the opera house. “You might say I play on 63rd Street and the pipes are on 65th,” he told The New York Times. “They’re about a block and a half away, and I must be a quarter of a beat ahead of the conductor at all times.” With most orchestras usually just a shade behind the conductor, he said, “It comes out right when I’m early, they’re late, and he’s in the middle.”²

One of his successors playing organ at the Opera now, Bradley Moore, told me that it was difficult to see the conductor from the console, deep in a far corner of the orchestra pit, under the lip of the stage. “And you couldn’t hear yourself very well down there,” he said. “In Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg once I started playing at the end of the ‘Prelude,’ and when the orchestra subsided and I could hear the organ I realized that I was a whole measure ahead of them.”

So the technical staff devised a visual monitor aimed at the podium that allows the organist to see the conductor on a little screen above the keyboards. They also put a microphone near the organ pipes 150 feet away to allow the organist to hear the instrument more clearly through an audio monitor at the console when it was playing with the orchestra or while accompanying singers.

Still, Howard Watkins, who has been with the Opera for twenty-four years and often plays organ parts, said “the old beast” had become more and more cantankerous over the years—sometimes unexpectedly going silent and sometimes not turning on at all. “Once, in Tosca, it started working but then cut out—the tech staff worked on it almost all through the first act before they could get it going again for me.”

So with the finances for a renovation assured, the Opera decided to go ahead last spring, and Schantz got the job and took the organ away. Lausmann had been through a similar restoration of an opera-organ in his previous post at the State Opera in Vienna. He, Jeff Mace, director of productions operations, and Doug Hunt as project consultant and organ expert all agreed that only one minor change in the pipework ought to be made—replacement of the unusually-shaped shallots in the bottom twenty-four pipes of the 16′ Bombarde register and its extension in the Pedal as a 32′ Contre Bombarde. Whiteford had installed these shallots as an experiment, with a curved shape that had long made the thundering lower notes hard to tune—“fidgety,” as Hunt put it.

Once in Ohio, Schantz built a new and stronger enclosure. Most of the summer, the factory workers were busily cleaning pipes, releathering reservoirs and pneumatics, renewing worn electro-pneumatic components, and they replaced those twenty-four curved-face shallots with straight ones. A small team from the company, led by Rob Baumgartner, then brought it all back from Ohio to New York on a flatbed truck in late August and unloaded it backstage at the Opera. Everything looked good as new as they spent a week putting the organ back together. Smaller pipes were laid out in neat rows on the floor as the workers were putting them into place on the chests, while the big closed 16′ pedal bass pipes stood guard at the other end of the cage—all while dozens of workers from the Opera’s team scuttled around pushing and pulling sets and fixings to get ready for the September season opening.

Baumgartner said Schantz would have brought a bigger crew, but some of the company’s workers lacked covid vaccination certificates, and the Opera has required those of everybody who comes in. But the opera stage crews pitched right in whenever help was needed, as when they lifted an 800-pound chest into place inside the chamber that Baumgartner said would otherwise have required him to build a hoist mechanism. “These are great workers here,” he beamed.

The new enclosure is really a big swell box, a chamber that encloses the whole organ, seventeen feet wide, seventeen feet high, and nine feet deep. It has wheels, steel ones, but since the whole instrument weighs about nine tons, it probably isn’t going to move around any more than it did over its previous lifetime. Its back and side walls of KorPine one-inch thick are overlaid with sheet metal, all flat black. In front, the expression louvers—the original ones, restored—have protective steel bars outside them to ensure no danger of accidental damage from all the surrounding backstage activity. The organ case’s roof is reinforced like its walls to ward off falling objects, and its front is canted upward to 17′ 10¾′′ to better project the organ’s sound. The audience hears the organ after its sound has passed to the main stage and then out into the vast opera house, which can hold up to 4,000 people.

And the organist can only hear it then, too! The console, with two sixty-one-note keyboards, stop and expression controls, and thirty-two-note pedalboard, is almost buried in the orchestra pit, where it always was before, deep down under the lip of the stage on the far-left side as seen from the audience (stage right). The player is facing but cannot see the conductor unobstructed, because of the intervening double-bass stringed instruments and players. Schantz renewed and updated the console mechanism controls with a new solid-state system to transmit commands from organists’ fingers and feet and signals from combination pistons and couplers to the pipes, all designed to be trouble-free, a Multisystem II by Solid State Organ Systems. And all of the new electrical needs of the instrument and connections between the console and the organ were designed and fabricated by the Met’s own electrical department and metal shop personnel.

“Our hope is that we gain a lot more security and better sound,” Howard Watkins said. That is, no more failures, and clearer tone.

Tuning and final voicing touches were being done in September by another team from Schantz led by Jeffrey Dexter, its tonal director. The temperature must be cooled down to 70 degrees Fahrenheit to get the required A–440 Hz pitch, but the Metropolitan Opera can do that even in a heat wave.

And then it was off to the 2022–2023 season. “There’s nothing more thrilling than playing in the ‘Te Deum’ at the end of the first act of Tosca,” enthused Dan Saunders, who was the first to do it again on the restored organ on October 4, hoping to evoke what his colleague Howard Watkins calls “its own magisterial color” and move the audience with the thrilling power of its deep bass and bombarde pedal pipes. And all who were there that night were deeply moved as the full chorus, orchestra, and organ all roared out Puccini’s thrilling setting of “Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur.”

Another renewal, next to the Opera House, followed a week later, the reopening of the home of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, which had an Aeolian-Skinner concert organ when it opened as Philharmonic Hall in 1962 but removed it in 1976 when the hall, renamed earlier for Avery Fisher, was acoustically redesigned. Now, after another renaming as David Geffen Hall, it has been redesigned again. Fred Haas would have been willing to help contribute to get a pipe organ, but, he said, “The powers that be just didn’t want it.” Instead, they settled for a large, pipeless, electronic organ.

Notes

1. Joseph S. Whiteford, “Two Manual Organs,” The Diapason, September 1965: 35.

2. McCandlish Phillips, “St. Patrick’s Names Met Organist as Music Director,” The New York Times, August 31, 1970.

1966 Aeolian-Skinner Organ Co. Opus 1444

MANUAL I (enclosed)

8′ Prinzipal 61 pipes

8′ Bourdon 61 pipes

4′ Oktave 61 pipes

2′ Super Oktave 61 pipes

Mixtur IV–VI 277 pipes

Man I 16

Man I 4

II to I 16

II to I 8

II to I 4

MANUAL II (enclosed)

8′ Gemshorn 61 pipes

8′ Rohrflöte 61 pipes

4′ Flûte Harmonique 61 pipes

2′ Blockflöte 61 pipes

Ripieno VI 366 pipes

16′ Bombarde 61 pipes

8′ Trompette 61 pipes

Man II 16

Man II 4

PEDAL

16′ Subbass (a) 12 pipes (ext Man. I 8′ Bourdon)

16′ Sanftbass 12 pipes (ext Man. II 8′ Rohrflöte)

8′ Prinzipal (Gt 8′)

8′ Gemshorn (Sw 8′)

4′ Prinzipal (Gt 8′)

32′ Contre Bombarde (b) 12 pipes (ext Sw 16′)

16′ Bombarde (Sw 16′)

8′ Bombarde (Sw 16′)

I to Pedal 8

I to Pedal 4

II to Pedal 8

II to Pedal 4

Accessories

6 Ensemble (General) pistons

General Cancel

Balanced expression shoe (with bar graph indicator)

Balanced Crescendo shoe (with bar graph indicator)

Wind indicator

 

5-3⁄8′′ wind pressure

22 ranks, 20 stops, 12 voices, 1,289 pipes

 

(a) Pipes in stock, possibly from Opus 408, Trinity Church, New York City, unverified.

(b) Possibly Opus 1433 chest and pipes from First Unitarian Church, Worcester, Massachusetts, unverified.

Joyce Johnson Robinson

Joyce Johnson Robinson is a past editor of The Diapason.

More than a century and a half after his birth, Ernest Martin Skinner (born January 15, 1866; died November 27, 1960) is still acknowledged to be one of the most innovative of American organbuilders. Skinner created instruments that emphasized orchestral-imitative stops (such as the French Horn and English Horn), with consoles that were models of practical design. He created exquisite and colorful soft stops, including the Erzähler, the Orchestral Oboe, and the English Horn. His innovations also include the pitman windchest, and he perfected the electro-pneumatic motor for swell shutters.¹

Skinner began his career in 1886, working for George H. Ryder in Reading, Massachusetts, north of Boston. Skinner worked there for four years, and in 1890 after being fired by a new foreman, was subsequently hired by George S. Hutchings, for whom he worked for eleven years.

Skinner founded Ernest M. Skinner & Co.—the firm changed names several times before becoming known as the Skinner Organ Company in 1919—and his career lasted a good four decades, with 1910 to the early 1920s being its heyday. The Great Depression greatly reduced the market for Skinner’s instruments. Furthermore, staff changes in the company resulted in Skinner losing control of his own firm, and through a merger, a new entity emerged, the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company, in 1932. The factory that Skinner opened in 1936 (when he was 70!) with his son Richmond, when the company was known as Ernest M. Skinner & Son Organ Company, was destroyed by fire on June 17, 1943. Changes in musical tastes also eventually led to a diminished market for Skinner’s instruments. By the time of Skinner’s death in 1960, his style of organbuilding had gone out of fashion, with orchestral color and tone being de-emphasized in favor of clarity and brightness.

From 1911 to 1961, news of the life and work of Ernest M. Skinner was reported in The Diapason. The announcements, advertisements, letters, and features that appeared in The Diapason illuminated the great scope of Skinner’s work and personality, along with the waxing and waning of his company and career, and the occasional glimpse into his personal life. Over the course of fifty years there were dozens of announcements and articles that documented the instruments in the Skinner opus list and traced the arrival of G. Donald Harrison in 1927, the 1932 merger with the pipe organ division of the Aeolian Company, Skinner’s establishment of his own factory and company in 1936, and his joining the staff of the Schantz Organ Company of Orrville, Ohio, in 1947.

This article offers a brief summary of Skinner’s life and history as revealed in the pages of The Diapason. By no means will it present every reference that can be found in the journal; it is intended to give a flavor of the life, times, and work of this important organbuilder.

Skinner instruments

We first read of Skinner in January 1911, when The Diapason reported on the near-completion of the new, “monster” Skinner organ at New York City’s Cathedral of St. John the Divine. The next month, the journal published a letter from Skinner in which he complains about inaccurate reporting in a letter discussing that organ; Skinner’s letter also touches on the question, “what makes an organ modern?”

To the Editor of The Diapason. Dear Sir:—One of the reasons why I usually decline to give information to newspaper reporters is the fact that they are not satisfied to take the facts as submitted, but have to enlarge upon them and indulge in flights of imagination, which makes a farce of most accounts of church organs.

I note an article in the January number relating to the organ being installed in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in which it is stated: “The thirty-two foot pipe at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine gives the same tone because it has a sixty-four foot stop.” I do not know where the reporter got this information, nor am I able to comprehend its meaning. There is certainly no stop in this instrument of sixty-four foot pitch, nor have I heard of a stopped sixty-four in any other. The reporter is pleased to call this tone a “gusty rumble.” He vaults from this to the “shrill singing of a tea kettle just beginning to whisper to itself about boiling,” which makes a paragraph rich in metaphor, and is about as rational as the average article of this description.

I note a letter from James E. Dale, in which he says the organ for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine will not be the largest and most modern ever built. I was particular to state in such information as I gave the reporter that the organ was not the largest ever built. I wish Mr. Dale would inform me upon what he bases his conclusion that the Sydney organ, built twenty-one years ago, is more modern than the organ going into the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

What makes an organ modern? Is it the character of its resources or the number of stops? Also, allow me to say that the Sydney organ is not the largest in the world. The organ built by Murray M. Harris of California for the St. Louis Exposition, and being installed in Wannamaker’s store in New York city [sic], has that distinction to the best of my knowledge and belief.

The organ in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine has three thirty-two foot pedal stops, an open, violone and reed, all of which are the full thirty-two feet in length at low C and are open pipes. The organ is guiltless of a sixty-four foot stop of any description.

Yours very truly,

ERNEST M. SKINNER

The June 1911 issue reported on Clarence Dickinson’s opening recital at the cathedral.

Other 1911 announcements mentioned new Skinner instruments and contracts: Asylum Hill Congregational Church, Hartford, Connecticut; Sts. Peter and Paul’s Cathedral (the National Cathedral), Washington, D.C.; and Church of the Holy Communion, New York City (April 1911); and the completion of a large four-manual organ in the Grand Avenue Methodist Church, Kansas City, Missouri (September 1911).

The October 1912 issue noted the contract and stoplist of a four-manual organ for Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts, along with the dedication of a three-manual instrument in the First Methodist Church of Muscatine, Iowa—played by Mrs. Wilhelm Middelschulte.²

In October 1917, it was noted that Gordon Balch Nevin (probably best known to us as the composer of Will o’ the Wisp) had joined the company (having left his position as organist of Second Presbyterian Church of Cleveland), to arrange musical scores for the “Orchestrator”—a player organ using rolls (“which Mr. Skinner has invented and perfected after twenty years’ work”). The Diapason reported that:

The new instrument contains many of Mr. Skinner’s inventions whereby the tones of the orchestral instruments are faithfully reproduced. In addition the instrument contains a full size concert grand piano, and it is possible to reproduce a concerto for piano with complete orchestral accompaniments.

The Ernest M. Skinner company is erecting a special laboratory building for this branch of the work, containing rooms for cutting work, a studio for the head of the department, and a fine concert hall—equipped with a large “Orchestrator.”

By the way, a player mechanism using perforated rolls was also to be part of the Skinner Organ Company’s organ for the auditorium in St. Paul, Minnesota, mentioned in the April 1920 issue (“City raises fund of $61,000”). This four-manual, 105-stop instrument (stoplist given in the article) would also include a concert grand piano that could be played from the organ keyboard, “as it is in the case of the Skinner organ in Carnegie Hall, Pittsburgh,” along with a new feature, a 16′ Heckelphone in the Solo division (“which will resemble an English horn, but six or seven times as powerful”), and a six-rank string division.

The Diapason’s office was located at that time in Chicago, Illinois; naturally, local instruments would certainly be noted. It was reported in March 1921 that St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in nearby Evanston would have a great organ, designed by Herbert Hyde and Joseph Bonnet:

The Chicago district is to have another notable organ—one which probably will be the largest in any church of the city or suburbs. The Skinner Organ Company has been awarded the contract for a four-manual instrument for St. Luke’s Episcopal Church of Evanston. It will have a total of 78 speaking stops. The instrument is to be completed early in 1922 and will be the crowning feature of the new edifice under construction. The present chapel organ is to be used as an echo division for the new organ. The specification is the work of Herbert E. Hyde, organist and choirmaster of St. Luke’s, in consultation with Joseph Bonnet.

The front page of the October 1921 issue of The Diapason was virtually dominated by Skinner. There was a notice of the dedication of St. Paul’s new municipal organ, with recitals by H. Chandler Goldthwaite, the city organist, who declared the Skinner instrument to be “the best in the country, bar none,” and that “visiting organists are going to discover that compositions may be played here that will be almost impossible” on other organs. The center of the page shows Skinner at the organ console, and Arthur Marks standing by the organ built for Marks’s country place in Westchester County. And the right-hand column provided details on the two “wonder organs” for the Eastman School—one an Austin, and the other a 4-manual Skinner, every division of which was enclosed, including the entire pedal, which possessed a 32′ Bombarde. This organ also featured a full Dulciana chorus (16′, 8′, 4′, 2′, and a Dulciana Cornet), and on the Great, a complete harmonic series, including a Septieme.

The Skinner Organ Company’s New York office, located at 677 Fifth Avenue in New York City, also had an organ studio. The December 1925 issue of The Diapason lists the 36 “noted men” who would play a series of “great artists” Friday evening recitals at the studio, to be broadcast on radio station WAHG. The list is worthy of a Who’s Who: Lynnwood Farnam, T. Tertius Noble, Albert William Snow, Hugh Porter, Edwin Arthur Kraft, Palmer Christian, Charles Heinroth, Harold Gleason, W. A. Goldsworthy, Maurice Garabrant, Marshall Bidwell, Louis Potter, Gordon Balch Nevin, Guy C. Filkins, Rollo Maitland, John Priest, Chandler Goldthwaite, Alexander McCurdy, George Rogers Pratt, Alfred Greenfield, Arnold Dann, Walter Hartley, Warren D. Allen, Allan Bacon, Walter P. Zimmerman, Herbert E. Hyde, G. H. Federlein, William E. Zeuch, Henry F. Seibert, Edward Rechlin, and Clarence Dickinson. A photo of six of the recitalists gathered around a Skinner console graces the top of the issue’s front page.

The lead news article on page 1 of the April 1931 issue of The Diapason was the signing of a contract by the First Congregational Church of Los Angeles for “a large four-manual Skinner organ.” William H. Barnes, the consultant, and Stanley W. Williams, Skinner’s Pacific coast representative, prepared the stoplist for the sixty-rank (plus Harp/Celesta and Chimes) instrument.

The April 1931 issue also mentions the dedication recital of the four-manual, eighty-nine-stop Skinner organ at Severance Hall in Cleveland, played by Palmer Christian, noting that, “In spite of the fact that the event was held on Friday—a rehearsal night for church choirs—many organists and other church musicians were present. It is presumed that a number of choir rehearsals in town were curtailed to enable interested members to attend.” The organ’s console had three terminals for the cable—one so that it could be in the center of the stage, a second so that it could be at the side, and a third so that it could be in the sunken pit. “The tone is characterized by great beauty of individual solo registers. The ensemble is of the English type, with great prominence of chorus reeds and brilliant mixtures. These features were sufficiently outstanding to cause comment from the musical critics, one calling it a present-day ‘fashion’ in organ design.” (The stoplist was published in the February 1930 issue.)

The front page of the January 1932 issue featured a large portrait of Arthur Hudson Marks, “head of new organ company,” which is to say the new Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company, Inc., the combining of Skinner with the pipe organ division of the Aeolian Company. Marks was president, with W. H. Alfring, Aeolian president, and Ernest Skinner as vice-presidents, along with George Catlin of Skinner and Frank Taft of Aeolian. It was noted that 85% of Skinner’s business had been for churches, colleges, and institutions, and 15% for residences, while Aeolian’s was almost the reverse—80% residential and 20% institutional.

One early deal that resulted for Aeolian-Skinner was the 1933 order for a four-manual organ for the W. K. Kellogg Auditorium in Battle Creek, Michigan. The instrument and the auditorium were to be a gift to the Battle Creek public schools from Mr. Kellogg, “the breakfast food manufacturer whose products are known throughout the world.” The February 1933 issue’s front page gave the announcement and listed the specification, of sixty-five ranks plus Harp/Celesta and Chimes; an Echo organ was playable from the Solo manual. The specification included a 16′ Ophicleide (Great), 8′ Flugel Horn (Swell), 8′ Corno di Bassetto (Choir), and in the Solo division, 8′ Orchestral Oboe, French and English horns, and a heavy-pressure Tuba Mirabilis.

In February 1936 we read Skinner’s announcement that he established, with his son Richmond, his own organbuilding plant at Methuen, Massachusetts, under the name of Ernest M. Skinner & Son Company. The announcement is brief; Skinner “will engage in the designing and construction of instruments that are to embody his principles of tone and that are to be like the large organs in America on which his reputation is based.”

From this point on the number of new Aeolian-Skinner instruments far exceeded those of Skinner’s company. New organs were few and far between: First Church of Northampton, Massachusetts (three manuals, November 1936); First Baptist, Jackson, Mississippi (four manuals, 1940); St. John’s Lutheran, Allentown, Pennsylvania (April 1940); the reconstructed/enlarged organs at Brick Presbyterian (June 1940) and First Presbyterian, Englewood, New Jersey (three manuals, October 1946).

Skinner’s writings

Skinner’s own writings appeared throughout the years in The Diapason, from letters to the editor to feature articles. In 1919 Skinner was elected president of the Organ Builder’s Association of America. The September 1919 issue noted: “Ernest M. Skinner of Boston was elected president of the association, as the successor to John T. Austin, the first president. W. E. Pilcher of Louisville was made vice president; Farny R. Wurlitzer was re-elected treasurer and Adolph Wangerin was chosen again to be secretary.” At the organization’s first annual meeting, a motion for the association to declare itself in favor of the eight-hour day was voted down. In 1920, along with his report, Skinner gave an address on the importance of such an organization, noting how it could build respect and collegiality, in “a field that offers no one an easy road to success either artistically or financially.” The year 1920 looked rosy indeed. Note Skinner’s optimism (and mourn the passing of this era):

It looks to me as though from now on the organ builder were to become a decidedly necessary citizen. The organ is becoming immensely popular. The church no longer appears to have an exclusive ownership of the instrument. The auditorium, residence, motion picture theater and even the great municipal art museums are finding it worth while to give the king of instruments a place of honor in their activities. Let us make the most of our association for whatever it may do to insure the future for us.

At this meeting, the association drafted a uniform contract for purchase of new pipe organs, with a payment schedule set at 10% down, 55% at shipment, and the balance upon completion.

Also in 1920, in October, The Diapason printed Skinner’s lecture, “The Organ in the Home,” delivered before the National Association of Organists in New York. It offers an entertaining look at Skinner through his whimsical writing:

When the handle is turned on to let on the water for the morning tub, what is more fitting than Handel’s water music played on the unda maris? A little later we are led to the breakfast table and hear sweet discourse on a stop voiced smooth and round, to picturize a grapefruit, or a bald head.

But the essay focused on player organs:

. . . The present popularity of the residence pipe organ was brought about by the application of the perforated roll mechanism . . . . It satisfies an inherent craving for self-expression common to every living music lover.

Skinner was addressing organists, and he was discussing the organist who would be employed to play an organ in a wealthy home, noting that sometimes the performer would not be listened to:

The client and one or two friends carried on an animated conversion and paid no more attention to the organist than they would have paid to a yellow pup—in fact, I think the pup might have had the best of it. An artist will in this case be hammered into a mere mercenary . . . . The client knows there is, apart from the sound heard, more class to an actual organist than to a machine, and the organist undoubtedly wears this halo, whatever it amounts to.

The organ in the home necessarily has a much smaller public than elsewhere, but it certainly presents, particularly with the perforated roll adjunct, wonderful opportunities for an intimate acquaintance with whatever kind of music one is interested in . . . . The future for the organist looks wonderful to me . . . . But you can do more than anybody else to better the conditions of public music. A given plane is raised from a higher one, never from below.

The early 1920s were prosperous for the Skinner company. The April 1921 issue of The Diapason reports that the Skinner Organ Company would combine with the Steere Organ Company, to handle a large amount of new work. The Steere plant would operate as a unit of the Skinner organ company:

The two factories have been consolidated, but the plant of the Steere Company at Westfield, Mass., will be operated and the entire staff of that concern will be retained. The addition of the Steere forces to the facilities of the Boston plant of the Skinner Company will make it possible to take care of the large amount of new work, orders for which have been received by the Skinner Company. The deal therefore does not actually remove any factor from the organ business, but serves to make for better results through a combination of interests.

The announcement includes Skinner’s letter to the editor, detailing the consolidation, noting that George Kingsbury, Steere’s president, and Harry Van Wart, superintendent (who had previously worked for Skinner), supported “high standards of excellence.” Skinner had written that:

There has been a tremendous demand for Skinner products during the past year, which can be satisfied only by an organization expert in organ building and familiar with the technique and rigid inspection requirements of the Skinner Company. The Steere plant will operate at capacity as a unit of the Skinner Organ Company making standard Skinner parts under our standard specifications and inspection.

Skinner commented on whiffle-tree swell shade action in The Diapason Forum of the February 1922 issue. He explains his preference for it: “The whiffle-tree engine will move the shades about twice as fast as in the old mechanical action without slamming.” Skinner was responding to a previous letter that had criticized the whiffle-tree, and did not spare feelings in doing so: “Except for the fact that M. E. Hardy has overlooked everything of importance relating to the whiffle-tree swell shutter action, his article on the subject is very well expressed.”³

In a letter in May 1945, Skinner explained why organ pipes go sharp when temperature rises, what a temperament is, and what a “wolf” is. The first: As temperature rises, pipes contain less air than formerly, as some has left, due to expansion. Thus less air is excited by the same amount of force. The second: The wolf is the dissonance remaining in one interval of a perfectly tuned or untempered octave. Setting a temperament consists in tuning an octave so that the wolf is distributed equally throughout its twelve intervals.

Later that year, Skinner defined a “classical” organ: “Generally I have regarded it as the type represented by the French organs in Notre Dame and San [sic] Sulpice, and perhaps by the Roosevelt, Johnson and Hutchings organs in America . . . .” He felt that the “so-called romantic organ is the type developed here in the United States” and that its characteristics were “strings of warmth and prompt speech, the new orchestral voices, and unfortunately the Philomela, heavy claribel flutes and fat diapason.” He concluded by saying that since Webster defines classical as “a work of the highest class, of acknowledged excellence,” then the organs of Washington National Cathedral, Girard College, or Bruton Parish Church should be considered so.

In July 1949, Skinner complained about William H. Barnes’s Contemporary American Organ. Barnes claimed, based on letters he had received, that Skinner was not the inventor of certain stops. Skinner’s letter to the editor disputes this, demanding some proof: “Will Mr. Barnes please give in these columns a single instance where any one of these stops was placed by another organ builder, of a character authentic to an equal degree with those designed by the undersigned, and where they were placed, previous to the dates named?” The battle of letters continued, with Mr. Maclean of Toronto and Edwin D. Northrup joining in (September 1949). Skinner clarified that his contribution was the stop’s tone, not merely a stop name.

Please tell Mr. Maclean of Toronto that I did not refer to engraving the name English horn or cor anglais on a stopknob. I have seen many such, but the authentic English horn tone was not heard when the stop was drawn. I have been in England, France, Belgium, Holland and Germany several times, but never once heard the tone of an orchestral English horn, regardless of the name. Also in my sixty-five years as an organ builder I have seen organs of all makes in every state in the Union, but never once heard an authentic English horn, except my own.

. . . I invited Willis to America and gave him my French horn, personally, likewise men from Cavaille-Coll of Paris. I also gave many builders my pitman windchest and whiffletree swell engine; so now I suppose the logical thing to do is to try to do me out of their invention. I invented a contre bombarde and other stops. That doesn’t prevent others from designing other forms of the same name, does it?  . . . Cancel “inventions” to please Mr. Maclean, substitute “developments.” Moral: To avoid criticism, do nothing.

In 1951, when the organbuilder turned 85, the journal published “Ernest M. Skinner recalls the past” in the March issue. Later that year, Skinner’s wife Mabel died, and the grieving Skinner stayed with his daughter Eugenia in Reading, Massachusetts. In this article, Skinner summarized his life, beginning with a description of his limited education—“high school for a while”—and his on-the-job training, beginning with George H. Ryder, for whom Skinner swept the shop and wound trackers. He taught himself tuning (both piano and organ). He worked at George S. Hutchings in Boston, moving up to foreman, and then struck out on his own.

Skinner cited his organs at City College in New York, the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, the Washington National Cathedral, Rockefeller Memorial Chapel, Girard College Chapel, and Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. He described operatic and symphonic inspiration for his French Horn (Strauss, Salome), Bassoon (Zarathustra), and Orchestral Oboe and English Horn (Wagner, Parsifal), noting that “every improvement I ever made in the organ was opposed by somebody.” He concluded noting that Hutchings turned down a half-interest in Alexander Graham Bell’s telephone—for $50.

In July 1952, Skinner’s “Principles of Tonal Design” was a feature article. Skinner began by explaining that the electrically driven fan made subsidiary wind pressures possible. He suggests five-inch pressure “satisfactory for general purposes, except on large organs.” The article presented the characteristics of different stop pipes, where to locate their ranks in the organ, and tuning.

Skinner advertisements

The Skinner company was a regular advertiser in The Diapason. Skinner’s advertisements provide a view of the progress of Skinner’s business, and also his philosophies. Those from the 1930s after his separation from the company that he founded decades earlier are particularly telling.

One of the earliest advertisements appeared in August 1917, simply stating that “It isn’t what you Pay; it what you Get for what you pay. Buy by the tone, not by the ton.” The advertiser is the Ernest M. Skinner Company, Church Organs, Boston, Massachusetts.

An advertisement in February 1936 announces that “Ernest M. Skinner is established at Methuen, Mass., where organ building, as exemplified by the instruments at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, St. Thomas’ and St. Bartholomew’s churches, New York City, and similar examples elsewhere, will be continued. The traditional ensemble, enhanced by Mr. Skinner’s orchestral and tonal inventions . . . will ensure the character of these instruments. Their beautiful tone and uncompromising fidelity to quality are acknowledged by American and foreign artists alike.” This advertisement emphasizes what Skinner would be forever remembered for: orchestral and tonal inventions in the ensemble, with beautiful sound quality in a well-made instrument.

An April 1936 advertisement with the title “A Personal Word from Ernest M. Skinner” emphasizes that “Tone production, of distinction, is as individual and personal as handwriting, and even more difficult to copy. It is the product of personal musical experience, taste, research, technical skill and sense of hearing” and that Skinner’s company is the only one from which one can purchase instruments having “tonal characteristics of breadth and splendor.”

In another 1936 advertisement, this from May, Skinner writes that an organbuilder must have a musical imagination, so that the tone he creates would have “an artistic character, of poetic implication. . .”
and that “tonal charm is a fundamental requisite of every musical instrument.” In July, Skinner’s advertisement reaffirms that his work in Methuen, with his son Richmond, produces “beautiful orchestral voices, original and eloquent colors of the Erzahler type, the Trumpets, Diapasons and Mutations . . . all . . .
in just proportion.” Skinner explained in October the workings of his electro-pneumatic key action.

It consisted of a high resistance magnet, operating at a low voltage and controlling an armature of fixed movement. This armature commanded a pneumatic key action having a double motor—a primary and secondary—which operated at great speed, making it the most responsive and reliable of all organ mechanisms, which it remains to this day.

In December Skinner touted his ability to improve an existing instrument through “a few judicious touches:” “Skinner experience will find and eliminate the weak spots and for some of the present indifferent stops, the old organ may be improved to an unbelievable degree.”

In his 1937 advertisements, Skinner took to including testimonials. An ad that appeared in April and July quoted Louis Vierne, from a letter to an unidentified third party:

When you shall see Mr. Skinner tell him that I should be delighted if my opinion of his organs could be of any use to him. It is already ten years since my American tour, and . . . I still have, in my ears, the memory of those magnificent timbres and in my fingers that of the marvelous touch of the instruments of this very great builder. I have retained an unforgettable joy in them, and he can proclaim this publicly in reproducing this passage of my letter.

Vierne also was quoted remarking after hearing a Skinner organ, “If I had had an organ like that when I was a young man, it would have changed the whole character of my compositions.”

In September of that year, The Diapason published an advertisement that contained a letter from Virgil Fox to Skinner. The letter was dated July 21, and one wonders whether Skinner actively solicited the letter:

Dear Ernest, How proud you must feel about your organ we played Monday—the one just completed at Northhampton! Your action will take any tempo, however fast, and any phrasing. And, you’ve built pipes that sing! The ensemble is clarity personified.

Though only a three-manual organ, the real 32-ft tone in the pedal makes it a distinguished one.

Your new 4-ft Swell Flute deserves to stand with your other contributions to the pipe organ. Don’t ever doubt that the world is grateful to you for the beauty you have given thru your invention of the Flute Celeste, French Horn and those other well-known voices.

Congratulations on Northampton! Congratulations because you are even more interested in music than you are interested in organ.

Yours in all sincerity,

Virgil Fox

Letters in 1938 include an announcement that the temporary organ in the choir of Washington National Cathedral was for sale at “about half its cost.” The instrument was of nineteen ranks and included a 32′ Fagotto (optional). Other advertisements announced work booked, in progress, and on hand; others reprinted more letters, from satisfied customers or those who had just approved a contract. One charming advertisement from the August 1938 issue beckons travelers, in those pre-Disney World days, to consider Skinner’s workplace as a vacation destination.

The completion of the organ in Washington National Cathedral was a landmark in Skinner’s career, and he continually trumpeted it, calling it a “masterpiece” that “will stand as a supreme example of the art of organ building for the next century.” He quotes Robert Barrow, organist and choirmaster of the cathedral, who calls the new organ “the greatest instrument as yet produced in this country, and one of the really great organs of the world . . . an organ designed by a musician, for musicians.”

Another advertisement quotes the Washington Herald’s article reporting on the dedication recital. Three thousand attendees “heard one of the greatest instruments in the world today in so far as its capacities, ordinary and unusual, could be demonstrated in a program of less than an hour’s duration . . . .”

In January 1939 Skinner’s advertising quoted T. Tertius Noble, the organist of St. Thomas in New York City, who praises the “superb instrument” there and to the new Washington instrument, with its full and rich Diapasons, which “may be compared with the finest to be found in the great English cathedral organs,” the reeds—“rich in tone, brilliant where needed, and full of character,” and above all the voicing of the mixtures, “so full of sparkle and clarity, without the horrible harshness which seems to be so much the fashion today.” In the following year Skinner printed testimonials from Clarence Dickinson regarding the organ in the Brick Presbyterian Church.

Other advertisements in 1930 and 1940 mentioned new instruments that were being built, and what Skinner could do for an old organ—that is, a slider chest tracker organ, a Johnson, Hutchings, or Hook & Hastings: electrification, curing sticking slides, guaranteeing steady wind and pitch integrity, a silent and instantaneous stop action, a silent high speed key and pedal action. And “by substituting a few stops we can give a substantial factor of modern tonal beauty. All the above under control of a modern Skinner console, at something less than half the cost of a new organ.” (June 1939)

Some of Skinner’s advertisements were pithy, such as May 1940: “Faith without works is dead. A like condition attends theory without ears.” Or March 1940: “Stradivarius, Steinway, Skinner obviously have something in common. In all three, beauty of tone is the first objective.”

While some of the letters quoted in The Diapason give one a sense that they were actively solicited, a letter from Thomas H. Webber, Jr., writing from Idlewild Presbyterian Church in Memphis (January 1941), has a personal and friendly tone:

I am very sorry the rush of the Christmas time has kept me from writing you before this in regards to the beautiful organ you recently finished in the First Baptist Church of Jackson Mississippi. It was a joy and privilege to play the dedicatory recital on this magnificent instrument . . . .”

[The writer goes on to praise the responsive action, diapason chorus, and especially the 32′ Fagotto.]

I am delighted that there is another fine Ernest Skinner organ here in this section of the South. The Idlewild organ is a constant joy to me in every respect. . . . More than ever, I am convinced that people want beauty in tone as well as beauty in other things and you surely create that beauty in these fine organs.

It was very nice to see you and Richmond again. I think he did an excellent piece of work in the Jackson organ.

In March 1941 Skinner’s advertisement was headlined “The Original Skinner Quality Still in Demand!” as though he felt the need to convince the reader of such. The advertisement listed “recent installations and work in process”—16 instruments, of which one was a rebuild, a second received a new console and electrification, and a third new pipes. All were on the Eastern seaboard, except for one in Mississippi and one in Ohio.

The entry of the United States into World War II at the end of 1941 did not immediately affect organbuilding, but it was inevitable that the industry would see changes. The July 1942 issue of The Diapason reported on the order from the War Production Board, which required that the entire organbuilding industry be converted to defense work after July 31. This order forbade the manufacture of musical instruments containing more than ten percent by weight of “critical materials”—metals, cork, plastic, and rubber. The report explained that “the part assigned to the organ manufacturers is to produce blowers for link trainers used in ground training of pilots.”

In July 1943, The Diapason reported that the Skinner factory in Methuen, Massachusetts, was destroyed by fire on June 17.

The origin of the spectacular blaze has not been established. The three-story wooden structure was razed, only the frame front remaining. Serlo Hall, adjacent to the factory and nationally famous because it houses the great organ that originally stood in the Boston Music Hall, being later acquired by Ernest M. Skinner, was saved from the flames by a fire wall . . . . The factory was operated by Mr. Skinner and his son until organ manufacture was suspended and the property was under the control of a bank.

Following this event, Skinner was largely absent from mention in the pages of The Diapason.

About Skinner’s life

Skinner was of sufficient importance that he and his family were worthy of note. The September 1914 issue quotes an article that appeared in the Boston Post in August, of how eighteen-year-old Eugenia R. Skinner saved her “chum” from drowning, “nearly a mile” (!) off shore at the beach. The journal also reported on Skinner’s own health. A February 1915 announcement mentions that Skinner broke a rib in a collision of his automobile with a tree in Cambridge.

In March 1951, The Diapason published a piece in which Skinner reminisced, by the editor’s request; this was on the occasion of his 85th birthday. Skinner tells the story of his life, how as a twelve-year-old he attempted to build an organ of wooden pipes—they did not speak—and how he began working for George H. Ryder, sweeping the shop and winding trackers. He designed a machine that could wind the trackers better and faster than by hand. He next taught himself tuning and moved on to work with George S. Hutchings. Skinner eventually went out on his own. He mentions his landmark instruments, and cites operatic and symphonic works as the inspiration for his French Horn, Orchestral Oboe, and Contra Bassoon.

The May 1951 issue reported on page 1 of the death of Mrs. Ernest M. Skinner (nee Mabel Hastings) in her sleep on April 14. The Skinners had been married for 58 years. “Mrs. Skinner had not been ill and she enjoyed a chess game with her husband the evening before her death. She is survived by her husband, two daughters and a son.”

In January 1956, The Diapason reported that Skinner, “who still enjoys good health and takes a lively interest in musical matters,” would turn 90 on January 15. It also reported his home address, presumably so greetings could be sent. (How times have changed!) It noted that Skinner was “a household word in the organ world,” that Skinner “built many of the notable organs in this country,” and that “he is credited with inventions which have become standard equipment on modern instruments.” This notice was followed by a reprint of Skinner’s autobiography, first presented five years earlier.

Skinner fell in the spring of 1957, as reported in the June 1957 issue, tripping over a small podium in a church aisle, resulting in a broken right shoulder. He spent ten days in the hospital and then was moved to a nursing home, “where he will be staying for at least the next month.” On the front page of its January 1961 issue, The Diapason reported the death of Ernest M. Skinner, “America’s most widely known builder of pipe organs,” age 94, on November 27, 1960, in Duxbury, Massachusetts. The headlines called him a “renowned organ builder” and the “most influential designer of American instruments in first half of the century.” The journal reprinted Skinner’s reminiscence article of ten years prior, noting that “Though most of his best known organs have been rebuilt and greatly changed in the last two decades, many of them retain some of the stops which he originated and perfected and which were most characteristic of the great Skinner organs of a generation ago.”

Notes

1. For a fine summary of Skinner’s career, see Craig R. Whitney, All the Stops (New York: Public Affairs, 2003). For more on Skinner instruments, see Dorothy J. Holden, “The Tonal Evolution of the E. M. Skinner Organ,” The Diapason, July 1977, February 1978, June 1978, March 1979, January 1980.

2. Wilhelm Middelschulte married Annette Musser on June 29, 1896. Prior to their marriage she was a prominent organist, pianist, and teacher in Memphis, Tennessee. In Chicago, Illinois, where they resided, she served as organist at St. Paul’s Universalist Church. See www.wilhelm-middelschulte.de/biographie.htm (accessed August 22, 2017).

3. For a brief definition of the whiffle-tree and a photograph, see John Bishop, “In the wind . . .” in The Diapason, June 2008, page 14.

John Bishop

Walter Holtkamp and the American Classic

At the Organ Clearing House, we have been working on a Holtkamp organ these days, which has spurred me to remember the fleet of Holtkamps I have known and worked with. I spent my formative years working with John Leek in Oberlin, Ohio, starting when I was a student and John was the school’s organ and harpsichord technician, and continuing after my graduation and after John left the school to form his own company. We built several harpsichords and one complete organ together, and we worked through countless service calls, releathering projects, major repairs, and organ relocations. John had apprenticed and started his career in Holland and immigrated to the United States to work with Walter Holtkamp, Sr. (1895–1962). While working on Holtkamp organs at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, he learned that the school was looking for a full-time technician and felt that was the job for him.

John had an active organ maintenance business, and given the proximity to Cleveland, the home of the Holtkamp Organ Company, we worked on dozens of their instruments. Oberlin professor Garth Peacock was organist at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Rocky River, Ohio, a 1950s brick building known affectionately (or otherwise) as “The Blue Whale,” where after several unheated service calls for the three-manual Holtkamp, we arrived for a tuning to find the sexton chortling, “I’ve got it good and hot in there for you this time!” Jack Russell was the organ teacher at Wooster College, where the big Holtkamp in the chapel was housed in a cinderblock corral. And David Dunkel, who graduated from Oberlin a few years before me, was organist at Saint Philomena’s Church in East Cleveland where Holtkamp had built an organ with an exposed Rückpositiv in 1936, touted as one of the first Rückpositivs in the United States.

I have written often and recently about the three-manual Holtkamp (1956) in Saint John’s Chapel of the Episcopal Divinity School, formerly the Episcopal Theological School (now defunct) in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where my father taught homiletics, and where I had my first organ lessons in 1968. Melville Smith, director of the Longy School of Music in Cambridge, was organist of the seminary and a strong advocate of Holtkamp organs. Charles Fisk was an apprentice in the Holtkamp shop, E. Power Biggs was a neighbor of the seminary, and the innovative design of that organ must have attracted a lot of attention.

Recently, the Organ Clearing House was involved in the sale of the fifty-four rank Holtkamp at Christ Church Cathedral in Cincinnati, Ohio, my father’s home church, where Gerre Hancock began his illustrious career. My father had two LPs of Boar’s Head festivals at Christ Church as led by “Uncle Gerre,” which included some of the earliest great organ playing and improvisation I ever heard. (Dad also had a Musical Heritage Society recording of vespers at Saint Mary the Virgin in New York City with McNeil Robinson improvising on the marvelous Aeolian-Skinner organ.)

I pulled out my well-worn copy of Orpha Osche’s seminal book, The History of the Organ in the United States, to review her piece about Walter Holtkamp, and found some great insights into his work in his own words and those of his competitors. Walter Holtkamp believed in simple console design, so the ubiquitous Holtkamp console has a table on which the keyboards sit with a simple box above them to house the stop-rail and music rack. Anyone familiar with Holtkamp organs will recognize that little row of six coupler tablets in the center of the stop rail, the basic unison couplers for a three-manual organ. Holtkamp wrote,

There now seems to be a genuine desire on the part of serious musicians to reduce the number of console appliances and spend this money on the inside of the organ. This matter of simplifying consoles directly concerns the couplers. We have far too many couplers. If fewer couplers were used the present confusion in coupler arrangements would never have arisen.¹

Was he implying that musicians who use couplers are not serious? Of course, there are differing points of view. The style of playing developed and advocated by such geniuses as Lynwood Farnam depended heavily on super- and sub-coupling. But Farnam was no showcasing fool. The spectacular console he designed for the 1917 Casavant organ at Boston’s Emmanuel Church included such beauties as “Swell Octave Couplers to Cut Off Swell 2′ Stops.”

Look at the stoplist of most any Holtkamp organ, and you will see lots of fractions and Roman numerals—those voices that speak at intervals and have particularly high pitches. Tasteful use of those stops precludes the use of super couplers. Any organ tuner will tell you to avoid coupling mixtures up and down octaves and to couple mixtures between keyboards only with care. If the Positiv and Great are not in tune with each other, you have nothing to gain and everything to lose by coupling the two together.

Thirty years ago, I knew a tuner who had worked for Aeolian-Skinner who regularly changed the pistons on organs he tuned, taking super-couplers, tremulants, and redundant mixtures out of the combinations, muttering to himself. And several Möller organs I have known had electro-pneumatic cutout switches that would not allow a Celeste and a Mixture to play together, or a Mixture and a super-coupler. Another trick was that a Mixture would not play unless you drew an 8′ Principal.

Upstairs and downstairs, and in my lady’s chamber

Holtkamp believed that a listener/viewer should be able to discern the content of an organ by looking at it, and most of his organs left all of the unenclosed pipes out in the open. With just a little knowledge about the construction of organ pipes, one can construct a stoplist without seeing the console. And with only a few exceptions, Holtkamp organs had only one enclosed division. Holtkamp wrote, “The Swell is the only division under the influence of the shutters. The shutters are plainly visible, and the onlooker is not in doubt as to the function of the apparatus.”²

This visibility of interior components reflects the Bauhaus School of Architecture as practiced by Walter Gropius, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and Le Corbusier, where “form follows function.” It reflects Holtkamp’s thought that an organ should be “honest.” The highly regarded Holtkamp organ in Crouse Hall at the University of Syracuse is a stunning example of this philosophy. What you see is what you get.

Kulas Hall at the Cleveland Institute of Music houses a modest three-manual Holtkamp organ built in 1972, the work of Walter’s son, “Chick” Holtkamp. A colleague asked me to listen for balance at a rehearsal where she was playing the organ in a large piece for chorus and orchestra. My first suggestion was to stop beating time with the Swell pedal. The shutters were up there flapping “in front of God and everyone.”

The focus on exposed pipes was a factor of sound as well as appearance. Holtkamp was rebelling against the practice common in early and mid-twentieth-century organs of placing pipes in remote chambers. He wrote, “With the present conditions of organ placement, the organist is in the unfortunate position of the man who must woo his lady by correspondence.”³

In my long experience tuning organs, I know a significant disadvantage of organs with many exposed pipes—they are dirty. An organ case or chamber limits the number of airborne particles, protecting the pipes from accumulating excessive dust. I maintain a Delaware organ with many exposed pipes, located in a church on a busy street corner in Manhattan. There is so much dirt and debris in the pipes that Mixtures and other upperwork cannot be tuned.

Anything you can do, I can do better.

Walter Holtkamp and G. Donald Harrison of Aeolian-Skinner were contemporaries, and both were interested in exploring the sounds of classic organs, together contributing to the development of what we now call the “American Classic” tradition. However, Harrison believed in the complex consoles that Holtkamp denounced and regularly installed organs in chambers, a practice that Holtkamp abhorred.

Harrison’s organs reflected his English heritage. The Swell division typically contained a Principal chorus and multiple reed stops, equipping the instruments for extraordinary expressive capabilities, especially valued for choral accompanying. The Swell divisions in Holtkamp organs were less important and less developed than the Great or Positiv divisions and usually included only small reeds such as Schalmei, Bassoon, or the fractional-length Dulzian.

Harrison’s organs used Ernest Skinner’s pitman windchests exclusively. Holtkamp’s extremist philosophy married him to slider chests, the traditional form developed in Europe in the earliest centuries of organ building. We are familiar with the mantra that the classic slider chest with key channels creates superior blend of choruses of voices because all the pipes of a single note from each stop in a division are arranged over a common key channel. In other words, middle C of every stop on the Great is above the middle C key channel. The stops that are speaking are those whose sliders are open, and the air from the open pallet is common to all those middle C pipes.

Walter Holtkamp cheated. While most of his organs have slider stop action, at least on the Great, those chests do not have key channels, but are large open vessels with internal key action similar to that of an Austin organ, with a single round valve under every pipe. That valve action is complex and tricky enough to adjust that it is hard to tell why Holtkamp used them, especially when he was sacrificing the advantages of key channels.

Walter Holtkamp, Sr., was a transitional figure in the history of the twentieth century American pipe organ. His company was founded by George Votteler in Cleveland in 1855. Hermann Holtkamp of Saint Marys, Ohio, joined Votteler in 1903, and the firm was later known as Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling. Hermann’s son Walter took control of the company in 1931.

By following the evolution of stoplists year by year, it is easy to see how the organs of G. Donald Harrison and Walter Holtkamp developed on different paths. Into the 1950s, while Harrison was producing stately masterpieces such as found at Saint Mary the Virgin and Saint Thomas in New York, Holtkamp’s instruments were more edgy and experimental. Like Charles Fisk a decade later, Holtkamp had a large following of admirers, devotees, and advocates. His organs were installed in many prestigious schools of music, including Oberlin, University of California at Berkeley, Trinity College, Yale University, and General Theological Seminary in New York.

Another set of recordings in my father’s collection featured Princeton University organist Carl Weinrich playing Bach on the Holtkamp at General Theological Seminary, a statement from the 1950s version of progressive musicians. This was exactly concurrent with E. Power Biggs’s introduction of the Flentrop organ in Harvard’s Busch-Reisinger Museum and his wildly popular series of recordings, E. Power Biggs Plays Bach Organ Favorites.

Ironically, an example of Holtkamp’s popularity as a progressive organbuilder resulted in the commissioning of a Schantz organ. In the 1950s, Bowling Green State University in Bowling Green, Ohio, was planning for a new organ for the Bryan Recital Hall in the Moore Music Center. They hoped to have an organ by Holtkamp, but the state required that they solicit three bids and take the lowest. The result was a Schantz organ designed by Walter Holtkamp. You can read about that organ at https://pipeorgandatabase.org/OrganDetails.php?OrganID=19242.4.

In 1979, John Leek was engaged to move all the organs owned by Bowling Green State University into their new music building. I had graduated from Oberlin in 1978 and was working with John full time. To spruce up the Schantz organ with its thousands of exposed pipes, we took all the pipes over five feet tall to the workshop where we sprayed them with fresh coats of nickel-gray paint. We loaded the pipes into a U-Haul truck, packing them with appropriate care, and took our usual ten-in-the-morning coffee break. I started off to Bowling Green in the truck, leaving John to make a few phone calls. He would follow me ten minutes later.

As he told it, he drove around a corner on Route 20 heading toward Wakefield, Ohio, and saw a U-Haul truck off the road on its side. A pickup truck had run a stop sign and crossed the highway in front of me. The truck was lying on its left side, with a utility pole where the windshield had been. I was lying in the grass when I came to. It was raining. I still have no idea how I got up and out of the cab through the passenger side door. EMTs were working on me. I had a nasty wound on my scalp. This was six weeks before my wedding. I was put on a stretcher. The woman at my head tugged on the stretcher and said, “Jesus Christ, is he heavy.”

John Leek gave the tow-truck driver a fist-full of money and had him deliver the righted truck to the workshop, where he found that our packing was good enough that there was almost no damage to the organ pipes. Months later, happily married, but still badly bothered by my wound, I was doing a service call on a Möller organ in Sandusky, Ohio. I had removed the pedalboard and was fixing something “down there.” I stood up, cracked my head on the corner of the keyboard table, and a piece of windshield glass came out. I still have a lump there.

Some damn fool . . .

In 1922, Ernest Skinner built a landmark organ in the auditorium of the Cleveland Museum of Art. In 1933, Walter Holtkamp added a nine-rank Rückpositiv division to it. I imagine the addition must have stood out from the lush strains of the Skinner, but it was considered revolutionary. Sadly, by that time, Ernest Skinner’s philosophies had run out of fashion, and he was no longer sought after to speak at organists’ conventions. In a letter dated February 20, 1976, Robert Baker, the founding director of the Yale Institute of Sacred Music wrote,

. . . at the Boston Convention in the 1930s, Mr. Skinner found himself standing alone and both hurt and bewildered in the lobby of the Copley Plaza. Walter Holtkamp, who told me this story, saw him standing there, and said to himself, ‘Now this is a perfect shame!! There stands one of the greatest figures in the art of organ-building, and all those sissies are afraid to go up to speak to him, for fear they might lose face amongst their peers!’ So Walter sauntered over, saying ‘Mr. Skinner, I am Walter Holtkamp from Cleveland, and I just want to thank you for all you have meant and done for the art of organ-building through your splendid career.’ Mr. Skinner, by that time a bit hard of hearing, and a bit slower on the uptake by then, got only one thing out of this, and that was the word ‘Cleveland.’ So he responded, ‘Cleveland! Say, you know, I have one of my best organs out there in the Art Museum, and some damn fool has come along and just ruined it.’ ⁵

Notes

1. Orpha Ochse, The History of the Organ in the United States, Indiana University Press, 1975, page 386.

2. Ochse, page 388.

3. Ochse, page 388.

4. For those who are not aware, most of the organs I mention in this column­—in fact most of the organs in the United States—are documented in the Pipe Organ Database of the Organ Historical Society. If you would like to know more, open https://pipeorgandatabase.org/Organs.SearchForm-Quick.php in your browser, and fill in the form.

5. Dorothy Holden, The Life and Work of Ernest Skinner, Organ Historical Society, 1987, page 179.

Quimby Pipe Organs, Inc., Warrensburg, Missouri

Fifty Years and Counting

Fate, luck, and surprising interactions with others fascinated with the pipe organ were the impetus for the founding of Quimby Pipe Organs, Incorporated, in August 1970. The same scenarios have continued over the years until the company reached its fiftieth birthday this past August 2020.  

I was exposed to pipe organs when I was a fourth grader, while my father was accomplishing his residence work on his doctorate in agriculture economics at Oklahoma State University, Stillwater, Oklahoma. I was encouraged by my mother to join the boys’ choir at First United Methodist Church, Stillwater, where Mrs. Ben W. Martin was minister of music. One trip looking into the pipe organ chambers of the 1929 Hillgreen, Lane & Company Opus 959 was all that was necessary to start a dream. This experience paved the way or caused the orange shellac to start to flow as is often quoted. It is said that everyone who is an organbuilder and who passionately loves the pipe organ has orange shellac flowing in their veins.  

To me it seemed obvious that an organbuilder should know how to play the instrument and have an understanding of the repertoire. I studied organ under Professors Dr. Frederick W. Homan and Dr. William E. McCandless at the University of Central Missouri, Warrensburg, where I completed bachelor’s and master’s degrees in music.  

Today I play the instrument for my own enjoyment and occasionally substitute. I did play for the First United Methodist Church, Warrensburg, for forty years, thankfully with a readily available substitute when I was required to be out of town working on pipe organ projects.  

Early influences

My formative years in pipe organ building were significantly influenced by Colin A. Campbell, a service representative for M. P. Möller, and Charles McManis, the legendary pipe organ builder in Kansas City, Kansas.

I started my adventures in organbuilding as a key holder with Mr. Campbell and subsequently was taught to tune before the age of fancy digital tuning devices. Of interest to pipe organ historians, I still have Mr. Campbell’s Peterson tuner, with tubes and only two pitch selections—he modified this function himself for fine tuning the pitch adjustment. Additionally, I learned to leather pouches and primary actions, restore reservoirs, loom cables for windchests and console connections, and to accomplish basic voicing techniques to correct speech problems, basic reed cleaning and regulation, and the basics of cutting up flue pipes, adjusting languids, and the proper use of toe cones. Considerable time was spent in learning how to quickly ascertain technical issues with tuning or on an emergency visit. Mr. Campbell was extremely fastidious regarding the quality of the work accomplished. Since cleanliness and precise order were virtuous in his eyes, he had no patience for instruments that were designed in such a way as to make tuning and maintenance difficult.

In the way that Mr. Campbell influenced my mind as a service technician, Charles McManis also influenced my mind regarding tonal design and flue voicing. He never abandoned voicing techniques such as nicking that were considered an abomination by builders of the Organ Reform Movement. He was never an advocate of voicing flue pipes resulting in a fluty timbre especially in principal chorus ranks. See his book, Wanted: One Crate of Lions—The Life and Legacy of Charles W. McManis, Organbuilder, OHS Press, 2008. In the course of completing my degrees I became intimately acquainted with his Opus 60, 1959, a two-manual electro-pneumatic instrument located in Hart Recital Hall, University of Central Missouri, Warrensburg, Missouri. Two other instruments of his design left a lasting impression on me as well—his two-manual organ installed in South Street Christian Church, Springfield, Missouri, and his three-manual organ installed in Saint John’s United Methodist Church, Kansas City, Missouri.

1970s

This decade was a time of steady growth for QPO with one employee and the active participation of my wife Nancy Elizabeth, since deceased. In 1972, First Christian Church, Warrensburg—upon the recommendation of the UCM organ faculty and Dr. Conan Castle, director of choral activities at UCM and director of music at First Christian—selected QPO to build its Opus 1, a two-manual, 21-rank instrument, on which Charles McManis provided input. Opus 1 retained four ranks from their 13-rank Kilgen (1919), along with the case. The instrument was dedicated in September 1973. Coming up in 2023, Ken Cowan will perform the fiftieth anniversary recital.

Additional work accomplished in the 1970s included the restoration of a splendid two-manual, 14-rank mechanical-action (tracker) instrument by an unknown builder; the relocation of a two-manual, 15-rank Pfeffer tracker; the restoration of a one-manual, 10-rank Kilgen tracker; and the relocation of Möller Opus 5818. Two other two-manual instruments were also built during this decade.

1980s

The 1980s proved to be quite beneficial to the growth of QPO. In 1982 we were appointed curators of the Auditorium Organ, the four-manual, 110-rank Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1309, located in Independence, Missouri, where Dr. John Obetz was the principal organist. This appointment was the launching pad for future work because of the credibility that it gave to a young firm.

From 1985 to 1987 the Auditorium Organ went through an extensive rebuild where the leather throughout the instrument had prematurely failed. The console was also failing due to the extraordinary amount of use that it endured. At this time, it was decided to completely revoice the instrument. The revoicing work was accomplished by John Hendriksen, former head voicer of Aeolian-Skinner, and Thomas H. Anderson, former head of the Aeolian-Skinner pipe shop, who built four new ranks. This project resulted in a long-standing relationship with both John and Tommy. John was not only an excellent flue voicer but was also an artist at knowing the potential of vintage pipework. He was able to change their character by scale changes, changing cut ups, or adding nicking. Through Tommy’s guidance, old pipework could take on a completely new purpose and look.

One of our most pivotal occurrences was being selected as the builder at First United Methodist Church, Fort Smith, Arkansas. Ms. Nancy Vernon, chair of the organ committee, after extensively researching our work, believed in QPO and felt that our young firm would provide them with the best instrument. 

In addition to these, fifteen new instruments along with six rebuilds were completed during this decade.

1990s

The 1990s proved to be a pivotal decade. In 1991, I convinced Eric Johnson, who apprenticed with L. W. Blackinton and Associates, to join QPO. Eric brought with him the Blackinton slider chest design, which incorporated a different pallet design, along with other features that eliminated the need for slider seals. These windchests exceeded my expectations and allowed our pipework to be voiced to its full potential by eliminating the explosive attack experienced when using individual pipe valves.

In 1997, Eric, Michael Brittenback, organist of St. Margaret’s Church, Thomas Brown, and myself, embarked on a journey to Europe, led by Jonathan Ambrosino, to study notable English organs of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, along with the works of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll. This fact-finding mission was in advance of building our Opus 50 (IV/71) at Saint Margaret’s Episcopal Church, Palm Desert, California, which was designed by Mr. Ambrosino. Also, on that same trip we were fortunate to have Stephen Bicknell and Jean-Louis Coignet offer their expertise. Todd Wilson recorded his CD Frank Bridge and Friends on the instrument at Saint Margaret’s (available on the web).

Ever since that trip, whenever possible, our instruments have an 8′ Diapason in each manual division with developed diapason and reed choruses. This was a radical shift in tonal design from the terraced diapason choruses of McManis. Our thoughts about solo and chorus reeds also evolved significantly. During this trip, Eric and I confirmed the significance of appropriate metal thicknesses for flues and reeds also. Years before I had noticed, quite by accident, how foundational timbre and balance in the overtone series was affected just by holding the body of the pipe. The English and French organs that we studied confirmed the need for heavier metal thicknesses. When I examined a spotted metal 8′ Diapason pipe built by T. C. Lewis, which showed no evidence of collapse, it prompted me to have the metal analyzed, which confirmed the addition of antimony and other trace elements in the metal.

During the 1990s we completed four four-manual, five three-manual, and thirteen two-manual instruments, along with over thirty rebuilds.

2000s

The first decade of the twenty-first century opened with the decision to expand our pipe shop and make and voice our own reeds whenever possible. This change made it possible to differentiate our reeds from that of other builders. Our head reed voicer, Eric Johnson, developed the chorus and solo reeds that we have become noted for their timbre and excellent tuning stability. The first instrument built with our new tonal philosophy was the three-manual, 55-rank organ located in Gano Chapel of William Jewell College, Liberty, Missouri. This organ was especially important to me as I was allowed complete freedom in the design of the instrument to express my own thoughts and creativity. This instrument still holds a special place in my mind, even with the passage of time.

In 2005, QPO was entrusted with the rebuild of the four-manual, 143-rank Aeolian Skinner Opus 150A located in the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, New York City, following the fire of 2001. The instrument was removed in 2005 and then returned in the early summer of 2008. Its first public use following the fire was on November 30 of the same year. The work was primarily a restoration except for a new replica four-manual console built to AGO standards, solid-state conversion, and the addition of two ranks. All Ernest Skinner windchests from his 1910 Opus 150 remain, with the exception of two unit chests. This job remains the single most demanding and rewarding job to date.

Other notable new instruments include: First Baptist Church, Jackson, Mississippi (V/155); Dauphin Way United Methodist Church, Mobile, Alabama (IV/71); Canyon Creek Presbyterian Church, Richardson, Texas (III/58); Kirkwood Baptist Church, Kirkwood, Missouri (III/43); and First Christian Church, Jefferson City, Missouri (III/46).

2010s

All of the instruments built in the 2010s have proven to be emotionally satisfying to their owners and consultants, when involved. The most challenging projects in this decade were Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, Illinois (V/143), and Dunwoody United Methodist Church, Dunwoody, Georgia (IV/100). 

When Eric Johnson and I first visited Fourth Presbyterian, we were astonished that the 1970 Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1516 was not able to effectively accompany congregational singing, even with a substantial Antiphonal division. Not much was heard past the fourth pew other than mixtures and the 32′ reed. The same issues accompanied its predecessor, the 1913 Ernest M. Skinner Opus 210. Leo Sowerby described the E. M. Skinner as a fantastic instrument for accompanying and softer effects, but devoid of a satisfactory ensemble. 

We were fortunate to develop a specification, with the assistance of Dr. John Sherer, that could lead congregational singing without being offensive, and, at the same time, perform the vast majority of pipe organ repertoire. The existing tone openings included one that spoke directly into the chancel and another, added by Goulding & Wood Pipe Organ Builders in their 1994 rebuild of the instrument, that spoke directly into the nave. The nave opening proved to be inadequate for optimal tonal egress, so we were able to create a larger opening by removing the solid decorative panels at the top of the case and replacing them with acoustically porous panels on which the original artwork was duplicated. We also designed and built a Positive division in a matching case in the balcony, opposite the main organ. By doing this, we achieved the satisfactory results we had hoped for. Dr. Sherer used the organ of Woolsey Hall, Yale University, as the demarcation point. Dr. Jan Kraybill’s recording, Live in Concert—The Quimby Pipe Organ of Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago (found at https://quimbypipeorgans.com/quimby-sound/) provides an excellent presentation. 

Dunwoody United Methodist Church did not want a new instrument, but the merger of two instruments from the past. Their desire was to create a new Romantic pipe organ. The instruments selected were 1912 Ernest M. Skinner Opus 195 and 1938 Casavant Opus 1600. The results exceeded my fondest expectations: that no one would be able to determine where repurposed original ranks were assigned in the new tonal specification. The hard surface chancel was a superb sounding board along with the high vaulted ceiling, making the acoustics of the room the best stop on the organ.

Other new instruments from this timeframe include the following: The Church of Saints Andrew and Matthew, Wilmington, Delaware (III/45); Central United Methodist Church, Concord, North Carolina (III/38); All Saints Episcopal Church, Southern Shores, North Carolina (II/18); Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Lafayette, Indiana (III/29); and First United Methodist Church, Athens, Georgia (IV/68).

Looking ahead

Despite Covid-19, the sixth decade for QPO looks to be very exciting. Work in progress includes the rebuild of Skinner Organ Company Opus 323 for Church of the Messiah, Rhinebeck, New York; tonal rebuild of the Schantz organ located in Trinity Episcopal Church, Indianapolis, Indiana; relocation and rebuilding of the IV/50 Skinner Opus 265, with Pedal 32′ Open Wood and Bombarde for Saint Bernard’s Catholic Parish, Madison, Wisconsin; a new IV/55 organ for First Presbyterian Church, Charlotte, North Carolina; and rebuild and enlargement of Austin Opus 1162 located in Hendricks Hall, University of Central Missouri, Warrensburg, Missouri.

To ensure our work continuing well into the future, we have instituted a succession plan, prepared for us by Stinson Attorneys of Kansas City, Missouri. Present associates of QPO are as follows: Melody Burns, Nancy Dyer, Chris Emerson, Charles Ford, Eric Johnson, Kevin Kissinger, Bryce Munson, Michael Quimby, Brian Seever, Dan Sliger, Anthony Soun, Mahoney Soun, Chirt Touch, and Bailey Tucker.

—Michael Quimby

The photos on the cover page, left to right, top to bottom: 

˜The Cathedral of Saint Paul, Saint Paul, Minnesota

Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Lafayette, Indiana

Saint Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, San Diego, California

Photo caption: The Episcopal Church of Saints Andrew and Matthew, Wilmington, Delaware

Neal Campbell

Neal Campbell is the organist of Trinity Episcopal Church in Vero Beach, Florida. He previously held full-time positions in Connecticut, Virginia (including ten years on the adjunct faculty of the University of Richmond), and New Jersey. He holds graduate and undergraduate degrees from the Manhattan School of Music, including the Doctor of Musical Arts degree, for which he wrote his dissertation on the life and work of New York organist-composer Harold Friedell. He has studied, played, and recorded on many of the organs discussed in this article.

Editor's Note: Part 2 is found in the March 2022 issue.

Introduction

During their seventy-plus-year history it was customary for organs built by the Skinner Organ Company and the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company to contain an ivory nameplate bearing the firm’s name on the console, usually on the keyslip, although there was a brief period in the early 1960s when the company name was stenciled in gold letters in a way similar to that on pianos. Astute aficionados can sometimes even determine the era in which the organ was built by carefully examining the subtle differences in type styles that were used over the years.

After World War II some jobs featured an additional ivory nameplate bearing the signature of G. Donald Harrison, Aeolian-Skinner’s president and tonal director, which also gave the opus number and date. There is no definitive information to suggest why some organs received this signature plate, what criteria were used in selecting them, or what purpose it served. Much conjecture and oral tradition among enthusiasts has been promulgated to the point where there is a resultant mystique surrounding these “signature organs.”

The only thing approaching documentation on the subject that I have found is in the form of three letters, the first two written approximately twenty years before the latter. Barbara Owen writes in her history of the organ in the Mormon Tabernacle in Salt Lake City, Utah, Aeolian-Skinner’s Opus 1075:¹

Shortly before the organ was completed, [Alexander] Schreiner wrote to Harrison, “I have long thought it would be a matter of pride to us, to have your name appear on the console name plate. Perhaps also the year, 1948. If that is possible, we should be very pleased.”² Harrison complied by providing a signature plate on the right of the nameboard [keyslip], complementing the company plate on the left. Thus originated a practice that later became customary with Aeolian-Skinner. But it is perhaps nowhere more appropriate than on the Tabernacle instrument, which Harrison himself in later years felt to have been his finest work.

Harrison replied to Schreiner:

I note what you have to say about the nameplate, and I will provide one, but I fear it will not be ready to go [be shipped] with the console. I would like to have my name in the form of my signature if I can get this engraved in Boston.³

Then in 1968 Philip Steinhaus, executive vice-president of Aeolian-Skinner, wrote to William Self, organist and master of the choristers of St. Thomas Church, New York City:

The officers of the Company would be greatly pleased if you would be good enough to help us continue to honor the work of the late G. Donald Harrison by removing his personal nametag [sic] from the console at St. Thomas Church. As you know, Mr. Harrison only agreed to using these tags [signed nameplates] on the jobs with whose finishing he was deeply and personally involved. We are in no way commenting on the present tonal characteristics of the St. Thomas organ, except in all honesty to say that its character is not recognizable as the work of Mr. Harrison, or the Aeolian-Skinner Company for that matter.⁴

From these letters we learn that: a) it was Schreiner who first brought up the idea in the form of a request; b) Harrison replied with the idea of using a facsimile of his signature for that purpose; and c) twenty years later Steinhaus summarizes that these signature plates were put on organs that were finished by GDH and with which he was personally involved. However, upon examining and analyzing existing signature organs and the documented commentary about them, certain patterns do emerge and logical conclusions can be drawn, some of which are tonal and technical, and some purely personal.

It would be a fairly straightforward enterprise to simply list the known signature organs from Opus 1075 in 1948 onward until Harrison’s death in 1956, and I have done just that later in this article. Beyond that, however, I want to set the scene and cite some examples that show the trajectory of Harrison’s tonal ideas leading up to Opus 1075, together with information about the Harrison signature organs.

Historical context

A bit of history sets the stage for the emergence of G. Donald Harrison in the Skinner organization and helps explain why Harrison’s personal involvement came to be sought after and highly prized. The complete story is best told in the letters of the principal players as contained in Charles Callahan’s first book.⁵ But the main thing to take away, as it relates to the topic of the signature organs, is that customers and the leading organists of the era began to prefer instruments that contained the classic elements Harrison gradually came to espouse, and increasingly customers specifically said so. Many of these younger organists had themselves traveled to and studied in Europe and knew some of these historic organs for themselves. They were drawn to Harrison’s concepts of classic design for the simple reason that much of the organ repertoire, especially contrapuntal music, sounded better on these instruments, as opposed to the older style of symphonic and Romantic organs. The era of the large symphonic organs, characterized by a preponderance of eight-foot tone, high wind pressures, and contrasting imitative stops, gradually morphed into organs that were eclectic and modern, which were inspired by historical precedence designed first and foremost to play repertoire written for the organ.

G. Donald Harrison came to America to work for Skinner in 1927, largely through the friendly exchanges between Ernest Skinner and Henry Willis III. Harrison worked for Willis, and it was Willis who sent GDH to Skinner, with the initial idea of his being an emissary to incorporate Willis tonal principles into the Skinner organ. It is hard to discern a precise point at which GDH’s influence began to be felt.

Among the earliest Skinner organs GDH worked on was Opus 656 for Princeton University Chapel, Princeton, New Jersey. Marcel Dupré played it while on tour in America, and he praised the organ. After the fact, Skinner wrote to Harrison:

Dear Don:

I felt some embarrassment when Marcel [Dupré] handed me that testimonial so personal to myself regarding the Princeton organ, and I can imagine you may not have been without some feeling of being left out of it, so I want to say right here that I hold your contribution to the quality of that great instrument to be such that my opinion of you as an artist, publicly and privately expressed, is more than justified.

Cordially, and with great admiration,

Ernest M. Skinner⁶

Other early organs showing Harrison’s influence include Opus 851 for Trinity College Chapel in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1931, where Clarence Watters, the college organist, was a leading disciple of Marcel Dupré in America. By the time of Opus 909 at All Saints Episcopal Church in Worcester, Massachusetts, and Opus 910 for Grace Episcopal Cathedral in San Francisco, California, each from 1933, Harrison’s influence was clearly present, even though each of these organs, in their initial scheme, showed no radical departure from the prevailing Skinner stoplist. It was during this time that Ernest Skinner left the company to set up a competing shop in Methuen, Massachusetts. Also, the firm acquired the organ division of the Aeolian Company to become the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company in 1932.⁷

By 1935 it is clear that GDH was forging a tonal path different from Skinner, and different from Willis, for that matter! Henry Willis in England writes to Emerson Richards:

Now quite privately to you, Don is not doing what he went to Skinners for, and that was to give Skinner Organs a Willis ensemble. Don is striking out on what might be termed an individual line, obviously influenced by you in the strongest possible way [original emphasis]. You will know that Don’s Continental European experience is limited to a few French organs—he has not to my knowledge been in any other European country and most certainly has not heard the various types of German organs Baroque or otherwise. On the other hand he can visualize them perfectly well, especially after hearing Steinmeyer’s Altoona job. [The Catholic Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament in Altoona, Pennsylvania.]

Now you know that I appreciate your personal standpoint and ideals, even if I can’t go all the way with you sometimes. I consider that you, far more than any other man, have rescued American organ building from the romantic morass it was in when I first visited America in 1924. I consider that my own influence has not been inconsiderable for I did get Skinner interested in a decent ensemble and “sold” him mixtures, although he could not learn how to use them properly. Also if it had not been for me, Don would not have gone to Skinners, for the purpose and object I named above.⁸

As Harrison’s star continued to rise, so Ernest Skinner’s waned. In Skinner’s exit scenario from the company, there was a period of five years when Skinner continued to draw a salary, but his personal involvement in the company was limited solely to activities where the customer had specifically requested his services. He was not allowed to call on customers, solicit new business, or incur any expense to the company, and was to come to the factory only if requested for business purposes.

Attributes and examples of the emerging American Classic style

Aeolian-Skinner produced some very interesting organs during this period, and they varied enough in style and specification so as to appear to be completely different products. It is relatively easy to ascertain which organs reflected GDH’s emerging classic principles and which did not. For example, consider Opus 985 from 1938 for St. Paul’s Chapel, Columbia University, New York City, and Opus 964 from 1937 at Plymouth Church of the Pilgrims in Brooklyn, New York: with a very slight nod to progressive design, such as two mixtures in the Great, Plymouth could be mistaken for a typical four-manual Skinner scheme by comparison. Whereas the Columbia University organ featured two unenclosed divisions in addition to the Great—Positiv and Brustwerk—and a fully developed independent Pedal organ, and was heralded as a new voice for a new day, installed on the campus of a major university in the country’s largest city. It was a significant achievement that attracted considerable notice. E. Power Biggs played and recorded extensively on the organ.

The theories that Harrison worked toward in these early years of the Great Depression may have been inspired by historic principles to some extent. He was gradually developing a new eclectic type of organ comprising existing mechanical components that were excellent, together with tonal properties that blended Romantic and Classical concepts, put together into a new, entirely American product on which early, Romantic, and contemporary music could be played with artistic conviction.

Technical attributes of these new organs included low to moderate wind pressures, gentle but clear articulation, chorus structure with an emphasis on the four-foot line, carefully worked out customized mixture compositions that were attentively finished as the ascending scale approached the breaks, and customized scaling and halving ratios in different parts of the compass—generally narrower scales in the bass and gradually broader in the treble to effect a subtle gradual singing quality in the treble register, and a focused line in the bass. Where it was practical, unenclosed divisions were placed in an open location within lines of sight to the audience.

Consoles in general were of the same style and design as Skinner had developed them, with a few customized touches to suit the customer as needed, such as smaller drawknob heads, dropped sills to effect a lower profile, occasional narrow swell shoes, varying degrees of console gadget assists, and, later, tracker-touch keyboards. Harrison was in favor of simplifying console controls, and he and Schreiner tended to agree on that as their discussions for the Tabernacle organ progressed. One need only compare the consoles for the Tabernacle with The Riverside Church, New York City, each of which contained five manuals and were in the factory at about the same time. Upon seeing pictures that GDH had sent to him, Henry Willis expressed his displeasure:

The new console at Riverside for Virgil Fox is, in my opinion, the ugliest, and unhandiest, large drawstop console to which my attention has been drawn.

I say nothing of the stop grouping in threes or two as fancy—it seems to be liked in the U.S.A.—nor of the apparent lack of added vertical space between departments. Nor the row of tablets over the fifth manual . . . . But as for the arrangement of the toe pistons—help!

The swell pedals look ridiculous to me—the wide space in between reminding me of the old console at Wanamaker’s, Philadelphia.

Of course, this is Virgil Fox’s design—not yours—and I suppose you took the line that he could have what he wanted.

But I think that no organist should be allowed to impose his own pet idiosyncrasies on an instrument over which he, temporarily, presides.⁹

Harrison replied a couple weeks later:

Your criticism of the Riverside console is well taken but you might modify some of your views if you actually examined it. When you are dealing entirely with detached consoles, if you use the English two rows per department arrangement you would have to build a skyscraper. I see no point to it . . . . The number of couplers is essential when you are dealing with Chancel and West End organs plus a 15-stop Echo all in one instrument. I have no use for the double organ idea.

Regarding the width of the Swell pedals with gaps. We have built one more extreme job than Riverside in this regard, Grace Church New York [Opus 707]. With narrow shoes plus clearance you can get five in where four would normally go with equal safety in clearance.

The Riverside console is normal in most respects, the added controls can be ignored by a visiting or future organist. You should hear the results that Virgil Fox can produce with this set up.¹⁰

Beginning in the early 1930s these new classic attributes increasingly appeared in prominent organs where Harrison was able to advance his theories. Keeping in mind that there were about 100 persons employed by the company, it is clear that GDH was continually aware of the need to secure contracts to provide for his workers. He may not have been able to be so creative on each job, but all organs that passed through the factory in one way or another began to manifest these tonal properties in varying ways and degrees. But there are some jobs that obviously stand out as icons of this new style, which came to be known via Emerson Richards as the “American Classic Organ.”

One thing is certain that as soon as the war is over and materials become available, there is going to be a big demand for either rebuilds or entirely new organs, and I am hoping that we will be able to push the Classic Organ. As you may have noted in the articles on the St. Mary’s job [Op. 819-A, St. Mary the Virgin, New York, 1942], I am endeavoring to give this the name of American Classic, although it is going to be awfully hard to dislodge the word Baroque. I did tag the name Romantic on the old ones, and that has stuck, even in England, but an expressive word for the new organ which is only quasi-Baroque in principle with some French, English and American practice, makes a new word imperative but difficult to find.¹¹

In addition to the aforementioned organs for Columbia University and St. Mary the Virgin in New York, a sampling of these organs includes Opus 940 for Church of the Advent in Boston, Massachusetts; Opus 945 for Calvary Church, New York City; Opus 948 at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; and Opus 951, the famous Busch-Reisinger Museum for Germanic Culture at Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, which company records simply refer to as “Germanic” or “Experimental.” This organ was entirely unenclosed and was on loan to the museum yet remained the property of the company.
E. Power Biggs made extensive use of it for demonstrations, recitals, and his famous regular Sunday morning radio broadcasts, and it did a lot to promulgate Harrison’s new classic concept.

As the decade progressed others included Opus 981 at Westminster Choir College, Princeton, New Jersey, for Carl Weinrich, his so-called “Praetorius” organ—a near twin to the Busch-Reisinger, which happily still exists in excellent condition, having been recently restored by Stephen Emery, a WCC alumnus; Opus 1007 for Christ Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which GDH used for musical examples in 1942 in an LP album titled Studies in Tone wherein he narrates some of his developing ideas on tonal design, complete with appropriate musical examples; another organ for Westminster Choir College, and a large five-manual organ for the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, Opus 1022. Also, a significant summary of Harrison’s thinking during the development of the American Classic organ may be found in the article “Organ” in the 1944 edition of Harvard Dictionary of Music, an essay authored by Harrison. The article even contains a suggested stoplist for a three-manual organ that is easily recognizable as similar to some of these very organs.

However, among this pantheon the organs built in the 1930s and early 1940s leading up to his design for the Salt Lake Tabernacle, the organ in St. John’s Chapel of the Groton School, Groton, Massachusetts, Opus 936, stands out as a significant point of departure in the development of the American Classic Organ. Harrison often mentioned this organ in his correspondence in the ensuing years, particularly as he contemplated the design of the Tabernacle organ and in his reflections on it once it was finished. Writing to Alexander Schreiner, shortly after signing the contract for Opus 1075, he says:

With the location of the organ, and the magnificent acoustics of the Tabernacle I feel there is a real chance to build the most beautiful organ in the world to date, at least that is what I am going to try to do. I say this not in a boastful spirit, but rather in one of humility. I don’t suppose you have ever heard the organ built for Groton School in 1936. The next time you come East I think we will make a little pilgrimage to hear this organ. I have always felt it is perhaps the most successful organ we have built to date, and indeed it is praised alike by those who are for and aggressively against that type of a tonal scheme. This morning I was thinking about it, and it suddenly struck me that unconsciously I developed the scheme for Salt Lake as a kind of a big brother to the Groton organ. In other words, it seems to carry that tonal structure to its logical conclusion.¹²

Writing to Ralph Downes, the consultant for the new organ in Royal Festival Hall in London, in which Downes was contemplating elements of classical design, Harrison describes his experience:

In 1936 I visited Germany complete with drawing equipment. I soon gave up taking measurements and decided it was better to absorb the musical result and then reproduce them in a modern way and in a manner that would be acceptable to modern ears and in our buildings. Providing you obtain clarity in polyphonic music, what more can you ask, providing you add and blend in romantic and modern material.¹³

And, later, GDH writes to Willis, his old boss in England who had begun to question some of his ideals and goals:

I am not attempting in any way to imitate the Silbermann organ or any Baroque organ for that matter, but am merely reintroducing some of the features of the older organ which have been lost in the modern organs, and using, to some extent, the principles utilized by the older builders in the general chorus; the sole object, of course, being to make the instrument a more nearly ideal one for the playing of the best literature written for this particular medium.¹⁴

And Richards, who could always be counted on for his unvarnished opinion, says:

I agree that the Harrison work is merely based on the theories of the older organ work. Remember that Don has no first-hand acquaintance with German work whatsoever, unless we can consider the Steinmeyer at Altoona as such, and Henry [Willis] says that his knowledge of French organs is really not extensive, so that, in reality, he has been working on his own with only a hint from the older work. This is all for the best, since it results in creation, not imitation. [Emphasis mine]

In making the point that Groton is an American achievement I am not trying to overstate the facts as I see them. America has profoundly changed Harrison’s mental and artistic makeup. To some extent even Don realizes this. He knows that he now chooses to deliberately do things that he would not have dreamed of doing when he left England ten years ago. He has caught the mobility and restless drive that seems to be characteristic of America. Can’t you see this in the Groton organ? Its all-around flexibility, its readiness to take any part in the scheme of things from Scheidt to Ravel, its break with tradition, its vivacity, and its sense of driving power. Of course, it is saved from the less commendable American traits by Don’s sense of artistic restraint. It is not a Daily Mirror, but a New York Times.¹⁵

Plans emerge for a new organ for the Salt Lake Tabernacle

Beginning in the 1930s customers began to request that Harrison design and finish their organs. Even though Skinner was long out of the picture by the time GDH and Alexander Schreiner began discussions in 1945, the contract drawn up by the Tabernacle authorities still reiterated their desire that Harrison design the organ:

It is specifically agreed that a substantial and material part of the consideration for this agreement is the skill, knowledge, experience, and reputation of G. Donald Harrison in the design, construction, finishing, installation, and tuning of pipe organs; that the builder, therefore, enters into this agreement with the distinct and definite understanding that the Purchaser shall receive, without additional cost to it, the personal supervision and service of the said G. Donald Harrison in the performance of this contract and in particular in the designing, finishing, installing and tuning of said organ.¹⁶

Alexander Schreiner, chief organist of the Tabernacle, was born in Germany and had studied in France, and was one of the serious organists to emerge on the scene in the post-World War II era. He was an organist’s organist and was one of the most visible in America at the time, owing to his concert tours and weekly broadcasts of the Tabernacle choir and organ. He was the driving force in plans to rebuild the old Austin organ, even though he shared playing duties with Frank Asper, his elder colleague, who was himself a respected and popular organist in his own right. It does appear that Schreiner was the point person in all negotiations pertaining to details of the new organ and in the campaign for it, a campaign that began almost accidentally: Schreiner wrote Harrison asking his opinion about some minor improvements and additions. The idea of a completely new organ did not appear to be on either of their horizons at the outset.

Given the speculative nature of Schreiner’s request and the great distance involved, Harrison asked for a fee to visit and submit a report, not something he typically did for serious prospects. When the authorities granted his request, he had no choice but to make the trip, so he went and gave his candid opinion, which was that unless they decided to build a completely new organ, the company was not interested in undertaking makeshift alterations to the organ, which he felt was mediocre to begin with and which had already seen its share of rebuilds and additions to that point.

Schreiner’s desire for a new organ ultimately prevailed, apparently with little overt opposition. Once the contract was signed, he was effusive in his praise of Harrison as the chosen one to design the organ. In several instances he wrote for attribution that he felt that unless one person (that is, Harrison) was given the freedom to design the organ he would rather soldier on with the old organ, even with its faults. After the job was announced and as work progressed, inquiries for testimonial solicitations and advice began to arrive at Schreiner’s desk. Typical of his response is this reply to my predecessor at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia, where Aeolian-Skinner ultimately installed its Opus 1110 in 1951:

The reason the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company was chosen for the new work in the Salt Lake Tabernacle was merely because this company does by all odds the finest work. That we have not been disappointed in the results achieved is clearly shown in the letter which I wrote to the company recently, signed by myself and fellow organists, and published in the recent Diapason.

I wish you well in your efforts to have your contract awarded to this company. In our case we did not even consider any competing bids. Also we did not ask for any reduction in the prices which were quoted. I would always prefer an Aeolian-Skinner organ to any other, even of twice the size.¹⁷

In the early stages of designing the Tabernacle organ there flows a great deal of correspondence between Harrison and Schreiner, and every detail was considered carefully. It was agreed that Schreiner would be the spokesperson in corresponding with GDH, although there is considerable documented input from Frank Asper, often on seemingly inconsequential matters such as “Will the strings be soft enough?,” what to do about harp and chimes, and whether to retain the old Vox Humana or build a new one. In the end they did both!

Through the correspondence it is clear that Schreiner had an above-average understanding of the principles of organbuilding, just as did Harrison of organ playing. Their discourse is thorough and often detail laden, but always courteous and respectful—and helpful in coordinating the many logistical details of the complex job, one of the most vexing of which was that part of the organ was to remain operational at all times for the weekly choir rehearsals and Sunday broadcasts. Phone calls appear to have been rare, and written correspondence was the main medium of communication.

During World War II organ companies were severely limited in their ability to undertake new construction, and basically no new organs came from the Aeolian-Skinner factory during this time. In addition to rebuild and service work, Harrison spent the war years developing new sounds inspired by classic antecedents, and stops such as the Rohr Schalmei, Cromorne, and Buccine were born. Some of these began to be incorporated into schemes for new organs once production resumed after the war, including for the Tabernacle. Harrison proposes one such:

One other thing that has worried me a little bit is the absence of any reed on the Positiv, and I remember being considerably intrigued by the 16′ Rankett as made by Steinmeyer during my visit to Germany. I have never made one to date, and as it is good in an organ of this size to have some novelties, I have taken the liberty of adding a 16′ Rankett to the Positiv.¹⁸

Once the contract was signed, Harrison began to share the news with his friends and colleagues, in each case describing the unique circumstances of Aeolian-Skinner’s selection being without competition and commenting on the remarkable acoustical properties of the Tabernacle. His report to Henry Willis is the most complete account:

In my last letter to you I hinted that I was on the track of a very interesting and important deal. It has now been signed, and is for a completely new organ for the Salt Lake City Tabernacle. The present organ is a typical Austin which has been gingered up from time to time, the last work being carried out in 1940 when Jamison put in some Chorus Mixtures, which by the way are exceedingly poor.

Last spring I was invited to go out there and look over the situation to see what could be done to further improve the organ, but being skeptical about the whole thing I demanded [an] $800.00 fee, which I thought would probably close the matter as far as we were concerned. To my great surprise they accepted the proposition, so I had to make the trip. I gave a written report which, to put it shortly, condemned the present instrument, and told the authorities that we would not touch the job unless a completely new organ was built, with the exception that we were willing to include three original wood stops which were placed in the Tabernacle when it was built. These pipes were made on the spot by Bridges, who was an English organ builder who had been out to Australia, and had become converted to the Mormon faith, and finally wound up in Utah. I think he was trained with the Hill outfit. These pipes are the lower 12 notes of the 32′ Wood Open, which by the way, has an inverted mouth, and the famous wood front pipes which look exactly like a 32′ Metal Open. They are built up in strips triangular in cross section all glued together, and they appear to be as good as the day they were installed. Even the foot is built up in this way, and the tone is surprisingly good. The other stop we are incorporating is a wooden Gedeckt, which is also excellent. What happened to the original metal pipes in the organ is a mystery. Nobody seems to be able to account for the fact that there are none of them in the present instrument. All of the metal stops that are there now are Kimball 1900 vintage and Austin 1915–1940 . . . .  With these magnificent acoustics and the super location of the organ in the open it gives a real chance that one rarely gets. I was given a free hand with the specification after being told of the requirements that the organ must meet, so that I was able to work out something which more or less carries the ideas on which I have been working to their logical conclusion.¹⁹

Giving Harrison this degree of independence was really an extraordinary gesture on Schreiner’s part, especially when compared to the very intense, hands-on requirements that clients and their consultants place on organbuilders today. I can think of several instances where the builder was so obligated to accommodate that the builder’s own identity is hardly discernible in the finished product. Here was Schreiner, one of the finest, best-known organists of the day who was not only comfortable with but insisted upon totally giving over to Harrison the design of this highly visible organ, and in the end acknowledging Harrison’s work by asking him to sign the organ.

In this case the results are as unique as the circumstances surrounding its inception, but it was by no means unique for clients to place this sort of complete trust in Harrison. Writing to Brock Downward for his dissertation about Harrison and the American Classic Organ, Alexander McCurdy said:

At the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia [Opus 1022 in 1941], when the rebuilding processes were going on (we had three of them during the tenure of Mr. Harrison with Aeolian-Skinner) I spent much time with him. I made it a point to discuss with Mr. Harrison the particular needs of the organ department at the Curtis Institute of Music, then went off to California and let him BUILD the organ—I did not devil him! During the year in the period when the instrument was built, I spent a little time checking a few details in the factory in Boston, but for the most part I let him alone. During some of the discussions he loved to talk about some of the organs we both liked such as the Father Willis organ in Salisbury Cathedral—he seemed sure that another one couldn’t be built quite as fine as that one but he certainly did indeed try in Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. He always made much of the fact that his ideal in building an organ was to have it so that MUSIC could be played on it, not just one period but the complete organ literature.²⁰

The completed Tabernacle organ

In Opus 1075 for the Salt Lake Tabernacle we have then an example of a very complete, large organ in a prominent and famous location that was completely Harrison’s design without a lot of outside interference. It certainly has stood the test of time. We know from several letters that he felt this was his greatest work, and it is worth taking the time to consider his own descriptions and reflections on his work once it was complete:

The enclosed photographs are of the console of the new Tabernacle organ at Salt Lake City. I have just returned after spending a couple of weeks on the job and I am returning after Christmas to see the finish. It is by far the finest organ in the United States. It has the advantage of a perfect location and ideal acoustics.

You will be interested to note that there are no coupler tablets. The fact that there are comparatively few couplers for so large an organ and that the intramanual couplers are with their own departments, it was decided to use drawknobs for all of them. The pedal couplers form the inner group on the left jamb and the intermanual occupy a similar position in the right jamb. There are 20 general pistons. The fifth manual plays the Antiphonal organ only.

The console case is of solid walnut and was designed and built in our shop. The motifs follow those found in the organ case. It is unnecessarily large [as] the couplers and combinations are remote. They wanted an imposing appearance, hence the size and fifth manual! Believe it or not, but a million visitors pass through the Tabernacle each year and must be suitably impressed. The organ contains Great, Swell, Choir, Positiv, Bombarde, Solo and Pedal divisions, plus a small Antiphonal. The Great, Positiv, Bombarde and Pedal are all unenclosed. There are about 190 independent ranks counting a four-rank mixture as four.²¹

Another to the workers back in the factory:

It has proved my theory that the complex sound composed of many elements, all mild but different, build up to a sound of indescribable grandeur . . . .

The strings are good but not so soul stirring as I had hoped for; a trick of the acoustics, I feel, because all are modified.

Please tell the voicers of the great success of their efforts. There is not one regret in the job.

I don’t believe anyone will say the job is too loud. It excites the nervous system without permanent injury.²²

A summary to Henry Willis:

A descriptive folder is being prepared and I will forward a copy shortly. It carries my tonal ideas which started in 1935 in the Groton School instrument, to their logical conclusions. I was given my own way in everything and had to contend solely with two sympathetic organists. The organ does really sound superb, and I have never heard anything quite like it. Of course, it is of its own particular type. Although the full organ is tremendous, it is very easy on the ears, and you can play it for long periods of time without fatigue. This is due, I think, to the fact that there are no very loud stops, the effect being obtained by the 188 ranks, all of which add one to another. The large-scale Mixtures give quite a powerful resultant effect, which in the resonant hall gives quite a lot of body to the tone, but it is a kind of transparent body, as you can well imagine. No, I wouldn’t say that the organ sounds anything like a Cavaillé-Coll. It is less reedy than a French ensemble as the balance between full flues and reeds is entirely different.²³

A similar summary to Ralph Downes in London, who was working on his own project for Royal Festival Hall, which was to reflect some classic elements in its design, stated:

Nice to hear from you, interested to hear of your project. I am in Salt Lake putting the finishing touches to the “giant,” see specification enclosed. It is somewhat larger than yours but along the same lines.

Musically speaking it is the most beautiful organ I have ever heard partly due to be sure to the superb location and acoustics. What you are proposing to do I have been experimenting with since 1936 at Groton School. That is a modern organ in which the old (classical) and new are so modified so as to blend into one whole so that any worthwhile organ music can be played properly. Salt Lake Tabernacle represents the fruit of all my labors rolled into one organ. I can assure you it does something to the nervous system!

Salt Lake has proved to me a theory I have had for a long time, namely that the finished ensemble is produced by many ranks none of which are loud in themselves. Final result by these means is terrific and yet does not hurt the sensitive ear.²⁴

And, finally, an account by Alexander Schreiner himself after having played the Tabernacle organ for almost a decade stated:

No one stop, though it be of dominating quality, is allowed to blot out the whole sections of weaker voices, so that when the last Tuba is added, the sound is still that of a large organ and not that of one stop accompanied by all the rest. Naturally, there are delicate flue and reed stops which cannot be heard in the full ensemble, but the foundation stops, mixtures, and reeds, which are the backbone of the organ, are so well balanced that each contributes to a “democratic” ensemble of sound.²⁵

With this in mind, I think the Tabernacle organ is a good benchmark to consider in understanding what Jack Bethards means when he says that the Tabernacle organ has a “signature sound,”²⁶ the sounds Donald Harrison had in mind for this, the closest thing to his ideal organ, and of the organs to which he similarly affixed his signature plate.

Organs containing G. Donald Harrison’s signature plates

Opus 1075: The Mormon Tabernacle, Salt Lake City, Utah, 1948.

Opus 1082: Christ Episcopal Church, Bronxville, New York, 1949.

Shortly after this organ was built it was featured prominently in the company’s new King of Instruments series of recordings, appearing on Volume II in selections played by Robert Owen, the organist of the church for over forty years and a well-known recitalist at the time. It was again featured in a full program on Volume III, again played by Robert Owen. Owen also made recordings on the organ for the RCA label. The instrument was later altered by Aeolian-Skinner and again by Gress-Miles. It was replaced entirely in 2009 by a new Casavant organ. At that time the history of the church’s organs was memorialized in a plaque placed near the console, which includes Robert Owen’s own signature facsimile.

Opus 1100: St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, Newport, Rhode Island, 1950.

This is a three-manual design in a large, reverberant church, with obvious French inspirations in nomenclature and voicing that is very bold. The Great manual is placed on the bottom of three.

Opus 1103: Methuen Memorial Music Hall, Methuen, Massachusetts, 1947.

Much has been written about this unique organ, the design of which was entirely driven by the desire to keep the original slider chests that were built by James Treat to accommodate the organ when it was moved from the old Boston Music Hall and installed in this new hall in Methuen, designed by Henry Vaughan in 1899 specifically to house the organ. After almost a half century it was rebuilt by Aeolian-Skinner. It was nearing completion when work commenced on the Tabernacle organ, and GDH makes reference to it in his correspondence with Schreiner, almost to the point where it was used as a laboratory to experiment with possibilities for the Tabernacle.

Harrison makes this interesting comment about the Methuen organ:

Finally I would like to tell you that I greatly enjoyed doing this job as I was able to renew my acquaintanceship in a big way with slide [sic] chests. They have one advantage in regard to the initial speech for it is possible to voice with a higher position of the languid when a slide chest is used . . . . On the other hand, there are so many disadvantages with this type of chest that I have felt no temptation to return to the sliders. There is no doubt in my mind that the modern chest we use gives an attack and cutoff which enables much finer degrees of phrasing to be accurately performed . . . so that the result in the long run is more musical, which after all is the real test.²⁷

Opus 1134: Symphony Hall, Boston, Massachusetts, 1950.

Essentially a new organ but using some existing Hutchings pipework, it was built on a very tight budget. For example, the combination action was via a setter board in the back of the console. Albert Schweitzer signed the console frame of this organ when he visited the factory in 1949 on a trip organized by Édouard Nies-Berger.²⁸

The organ was used for examples to complement GDH’s narration in Volume I of King of Instruments and for pieces played by Thomas Dunn in Volume II, though he was identified only as the “staff organist,” and for a recital on Volume XII played by Pierre Cochereau. Virgil Fox also recorded a series of LPs on it for the Command label in the 1960s, and Berj Zamkochian played it in a memorable recording of the Saint-Saëns’ “Organ” Symphony with the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Charles Munch.

Opus 1136: Chapel of Westminster Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, New York, 1951.

This is a two-manual organ with the Positiv division on the back wall. A photograph of it was used prominently in Aeolian-Skinner brochures, even following Harrison’s death. The organist of the church at the time was Hans Vigeland, and Harrison’s business correspondence corroborates his respect for him and his playing.

To be continued.

Notes

1. Barbara Owen, The Mormon Tabernacle Organ: An American Classic (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1990), 43.

2. Alexander Schreiner to G. Donald Harrison, August 29, 1948. Owen, 43.

3. G. Donald Harrison to Alexander Schreiner, September 1, 1948. Jack Bethards, “The Tabernacle Letters, Part 3,” The Diapason, 81, 8 (August 1990), 10.

4. Philip Steinhaus to William Self, March 21, 1968. Charles Callahan, Aeolian-Skinner Remembered: A History in Letters (Minneapolis: Randall Egan, 1996), 355.

5. Charles Callahan, The American Classic Organ: A History in Letters (Richmond, Virginia: The Organ Historical Society, 1990).

6. Ernest Skinner to GDH, November 23, 1929. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 44.

7. In an email message to me dated April 14, 2012, Allen Kinzey tells the exact transaction:

On January 2, 1932, the Aeolian Company and the Skinner Organ Company formed a new, third company called the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company. Aeolian owned 40% of the stock in Aeolian-Skinner, and the Skinner Organ Company owned 60%.

Aeolian closed its operations in Garwood, New Jersey, and sent uncompleted contracts, the glue press, some material, and one employee (Frances Brown, who was a young lady then, and she worked for A-S to the end, or almost the end) to Aeolian-Skinner. The Skinner Organ Company deeded its property and turned over contracts, employees, materials, machinery, etc., to Aeolian-Skinner.

8. Henry Willis III to Emerson Richards, July 8, 1938. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 132.

9. Henry Willis III to GDH, December 31, 1948. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 269.

10. GDH to Henry Willis III, January 16, 1949. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 278.

11. Emerson Richards to Wm. King Covell, November 29, 1943. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 194.

12. GDH to Alexander Schreiner, December 10, 1945. Bethards, “The Tabernacle Letters, Part 1,” The Diapason, 81, 6 (June 1990), 16.

13. GDH to Ralph Downes, January 14, 1949. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 277.

14. GDH to Henry Willis III, August 21, 1935. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 144.

15. Emerson Richards to Wm. King Covell, November 26, 1935. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 151.

16. Contract in church archives. Owen, p. 38.

17. Alexander Schreiner to Granville Munson, April 26, 1949. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 299.

18. GDH to Schreiner, November 29, 1945. Bethards, “The Tabernacle Letters, Part I,” The Diapason, 81, 6 (June 1990), 16.

19. GDH to Henry Willis III, December 19, 1945. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 222.

20. Alexander McCurdy to Brock W. Downward, September 18, 1974. Brock W. Downward, “G. Donald Harrison and the American Classic Organ,” D.M.A. diss., Eastman School of Music, Rochester, NY, 1976, 97.

21. GDH to Henry Willis III, December 21, 1948. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 167.

22. GDH to Joseph S. Whiteford, December 1948. Owen, 43.

23. GDH to Henry Willis III, March 18, 1949. Bethards, “The Tabernacle Letters, Part 3,” The Diapason, 81, 8 (August 1990), 11.

24. GDH to Ralph Downes, January 14, 1949. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 276–277.

25. Alexander Schreiner, “The Tabernacle Organ in Salt Lake City,” Organ Institute Quarterly, vol. 7, no. 1 (1957). Owen, 43.

26. Owen, 47.

27. GDH to Wm. King Covell, June 25, 1947. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 253–254.

28. Nies-Berger, Schweitzer As I Knew Him (Hillsdale, New York, Pendragon Press, 2003), 10.

A. E. Schlueter Pipe Organ Company, Lithonia, Georgia; 50th Anniversary

We are privileged to be celebrating our 50th anniversary and are thankful for the organ work that has been entrusted to the company. This past December we held our Christmas luncheon with many of our staff, supporters, and friends, and offered a prayer of thanksgiving for our success and all who have sustained us. It is humbling to be celebrating this milestone in work that supports worship.

The A. E. Schlueter Pipe Organ Company was founded by Arthur (“Art”) E. Schlueter, Jr. In his youth Art met an English organ builder who befriended him and introduced him to church organs, theatre organs, and taught him how to rebuild the bellows on a pump organ at his church. He later took Art on as a part-time employee during his high school years, where he continued learning pipe organ maintenance and tuning.

After his high school graduation Art pursued a college education by obtaining degrees in education and education administration. He later moved to Atlanta, Georgia, to work in accreditation for the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools (SACS). Art continued organ tuning and repairs on the side (once an organ man, always an organ man). Having recognized that pipe organs were his real passion and required his full attention, Art changed his role at SACS to part-time consulting and eventually left SACS to work in the pipe organ field full time.

Founding of the company

Our company history began in 1973 when Art applied for an official business license as an organbuilder. The motto of the company was established as “Soli Deo Gloria” and incorporated into the company logo. This admonition has continued to remind us of the importance of our work and is engraved on all of our consoles.

In the early years of the firm, in addition to our tuning and maintenance work, we provided representation and installation services for a major pipe organ manufacturer. Our company quickly grew to maintain organs for more than 100 clients. Pivotally, during this early period, the firm started to undertake rebuilding and expansion of extant instruments under its own name. Being a rebuilder and maintenance company had the importance of exposing the firm to organbuilding across a broad spectrum of styles­—tonally, mechanically, and temporally. It could truthfully be said that the greatest impact on who we became as an organbuilder was the foundation provided by those who came before us. With great pride we consider that such renowned firms as Skinner Organ Company, Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company, M. P. Möller, Hook & Hastings, Geo. Kilgen & Son, and Henry Pilcher’s Sons were, and are, our teachers.

The initial business location was in the basement of Art’s Atlanta home. From these humble beginnings, the business gradually outgrew successive temporary and rented buildings until 1988, when the current complex was begun. It has been expanded three times to its current 22,000 square feet of space. The facilities of our firm include a modern woodworking shop, a voicing room, a drafting and engineering room, and a spacious warehouse area that houses the computer numeric controlled (CNC) machine, storage, and erecting room.

As the company grew, all of Art’s five children had the opportunity to work in the business. From age five, the oldest of Art’s children, Arthur E. Schlueter III (“Arthur”), had been offered the opportunity to hold notes while tuning and go out on service calls. Arthur recalled: “As a family business, the pipe organ was part of our lives. Where most people had a formal dining room, this room housed a pipe organ. Where most people had a family room, we had a two-manual pipe organ console, and a basement with a pipe organ blower and relays.” Much as his father had worked on pipe organs during high school, so it was the same for Arthur. While Art’s other children went on to other vocations, Arthur considered this as his career, but it was important to him to leave the business for college and reinforce that it was the right decision. While pursuing a bachelor’s degree in marketing, he continued to keep a hand in music with organ and piano lessons and classes in music and music theory. As he states, after having been away from the company, “when I graduated in 1990 there was clarity that my place was at the family firm and that there was a very strong vocation not only to work on pipe organs but to build them under the family name.”

Building Schlueter pipe organs

This came to fruition when, not long after joining the firm, Art and Arthur made the decision to cease representation for others and to begin building pipe organs under the A. E. Schlueter name. It was important to decide who we were and how we would define our business. What developed was a philosophy to “build instruments that have warmth not at the expense of clarity, and clarity not at the expense of warmth, and to serve God in our efforts.” This philosophy encapsulated our tonal vision while reminding us who we serve in our work.

In addition to building new pipe organs, our business builds custom replacement organ consoles and has provided additions for a large number of extant pipe organs. The consoles built by our firm have included traditional drawknob, terraced drawknob, tablet, and horseshoe styles. This custom work ranged from one manual to five manuals in size.

As a major rebuilder, our firm has rebuilt numerous instruments built by companies long since passed and many by firms currently in business. The same quality and ethics we use in organbuilding are employed in organ rebuilding. Traditional materials and methods assure that the intent of the original builder is maintained. When tasked by our clients, our firm can be sensitive to preserving instruments as originally installed without any alteration. With discernment, we are also willing to consult on changes that can expand the tonal capabilities of the organ.

Some of our historically sympathetic rebuilding projects have included restoration of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century mechanical-action instruments. The ongoing restoration of the four-manual, 74-rank Möller/Holtkamp and three-manual, 36-rank Möller/Holtkamp organs at the United States Air Force Academy Protestant and Catholic chapels is being carefully documented, and both organs are being restored without any major changes or alterations.

The instruments built by our company will have a lifespan beyond our own, and this guides our emphasis on quality and long-term durability of our components and methods. In addition to the visual and aural beauty of the pipe organ, we maintain that there is beauty in the choices of joinery and the materials such as wood, metal, glues, screws, springs, and leather. Because we started as a service company, we have extensive experience in rebuilding and maintaining instruments from differing builders, periods, and building styles. This has given us the distinct advantage of knowing what materials and engineering used in organbuilding have worked well and what to avoid in our own organbuilding and rebuilding, which allows us to choose the best materials and methods.

To provide the highest quality, all of the major components and assemblies used in the building of instruments, organ additions, consoles, and organ cases are built in our facility. Our firm has invested in the future with the implementation of computer assisted design (CAD) and CNC machines. This technology allows the visualization of the instrument and its components prior to building, with accuracy measured in thousandths of an inch. The ability to maintain these tolerances is unparalleled in organbuilding history.

What is a Schlueter pipe organ?

First, we would say that each organ has its own identity. If you hear one of our instruments, it will be unique; we strongly believe it should be designed to serve the worship needs and the acoustic that it lives in. Every instrument needs not to be a rote expansion of the last instrument built, but an informed design based upon dialogue with our clients and personal experience of their worship. There are threads that are common to our work—while not a definitive blueprint, a good study example would be the three-manual, 51-rank instrument built for Bethel United Methodist Church in Charleston, South Carolina. This organ was very formative to all of the organs that have come after it and included the building blocks of the instruments that came before it. (The organ was featured on the cover of the April 2005 issue of The Diapason. To view the stoplist: https://pipe-organ.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/Bethel-UMC-reprint-web.pdf)

As we started this commission, it began with multiple site visits and, importantly, attendance in their worship services. There are and always will be the subtle and not-so-subtle differences in churches’ worship styles and acoustics with buildings full of congregants. As a builder we feel that it is incumbent upon us to experience the worship with our own eyes and ears and then really listen to how our client will use the organ and its role in their worship. This is the only way to refine a stoplist and scale sheets into a cogent amalgam that will allow us to design, voice, and tonally finish an instrument that truly serves the vision of the church we are working for. We have always tried to remember that the ears we are given aren’t only for listening to pipes but also the needs, aspirations, and wishes of those who commission our work.

With shared worship and dialogue with the client, we developed an eclectic specification with roots in American Classicism and Romanticism. Of utmost concern in our tonal design was support for the choir and congregation. To this end, all divisions of the organ were designed around an 8-foot chorus structure. There are independent principal and flute choruses in each division that, while separate, are relatable and act as a foil one to another. The upperwork in the organ is designed to fold within and reinforce the chorus and not to sit above it. We very much wanted the chorus registration to be a hand-in-glove fit. This would be an instrument that would fully support the choral and congregational worship needs and also have the resources to support music from a wide breadth of periods and national styles.

The pipework makes use of varied scales, a mix of shapes (open, slotted, tapered, harmonic, stoppered, chimneyed), and materials to influence the color and weight differences in the organ flue stops. We were also careful in the placement of ranks in the chamber so that they had the best advantage for speech. The wind pressures on this instrument vary in range from four to eighteen inches.

As with most of the instruments we have built, we consider the strings and their companion celestes important for their sheer beauty and emotive quotient. (And yes, there should be more than one set!) This organ has sets of string ranks divided between the Swell and Choir divisions that can be compounded via couplers to build a string organ. Along with the color reeds, these stops support the romantic sound qualities that were designed into this instrument.

Along with the independent Pedal registers necessary to support a contrapuntal inner voice, we included a number of manual-to-pedal duplexes to bolster and weight the Pedal division.

In addition to the ensemble and woodwind class reeds in the Swell and Choir, there are a number of high-pressure solo reeds (8′ French Horn, 16′/8′ Tromba Heroique, and 8′ English Tuba). They are located in the Choir expression box to allow control of these powerful sounds. As it relates to the pipework, the expression fronts are carried the full width and height of the expression boxes and can fully open to ninety degrees. Our expression boxes are built extra thick and feature overlapping felted edges with forty stages of expression. This treatment allows a minimum of tonal occlusion of a division’s resources when fully open and full containment and taming of the resources when closed. Even the commanding solo reeds can be used as ensemble voices when the box is closed.

In studying the previous instrument, we found that through divisional shifting of resources, along with revoicing, repitching, and/or rescaling, some of the pipework could and should be retained. This is an important consideration that we give gravity to in all of our work. We considered the gifts that were required to build an instrument in this church in the first place. The generous people who gave these gifts should have every hope and wish that their gifts continue to be honored. We cannot say it enough, a consideration for stewardship is important in instrument building.

We have long believed that our work truly is a partnership between our company and the churches we work with. Over the years we have been gifted hundreds of ranks of pipework from churches that have merged, closed, or that have had changes in worship style. To attempt to exemplify “Soli Deo Gloria,” the Schlueter family has always added additional stops to every organ we have built, and many that we have rebuilt. As a way of thanks and in the form of a tithe, these additions have allowed the resources of our clients to be amplified and the organs to have a richer and more replete stoplist. We pray that in future years our gifts act as an endorsement of the importance of the organ in worship, and we hope that our instruments will plant the seeds of worship through music. In the case of the Bethel organ, these gifted additions included the 8′ French Horn, 16′ Double Diapason, 8′ Vox Humana, 4′ Orchestral Flute, and a secondary set of strings and celestes.

We build many different styles of consoles dependent upon our clients’ preferences and needs. The pipe organ at Bethel is controlled with a three-manual, English-style drawknob console with a full coupler and piston complement that adheres to American Guild of Organists standards. We are sensitive to the ergonomics in design to make the console comfortable for the performer.

As believers in the use of technology in the modern pipe organ, we designed this console with features such as multiple-level memory, transposer, Great/Choir manual transfer, piston sequencer, programmable crescendo and sforzando, record/playback capability, and MIDI.

The mark of quality for any pipe organ is found in the tonal finishing. With an organ project it is possible to be so close to your own work that you cannot judge it on its own merits. It becomes important to step back from your work before you can say it is time to “put down the brush.” This is particularly true of tonal finishing. The surety of vision and purpose that guides one’s work can also result in blinders preventing your best work from coming forward. To mitigate this, our firm completed the tonal finishing at Bethel over a period of time. Not only does it allow the ears to relax, but it also allows one to come back to a project more jaded and able to assess one’s work dispassionately. The tonal finishing on this organ occurred throughout the first year with multiple visits to the church as we traveled through the liturgical year and made different demands of the organ’s resources.

The completed organ has continued to serve the church well, as it has now reliably served in worship for several decades. Again, it is our measure of success that we have supported people’s faith as well as the outreach of the Piccolo Spoleto Music Festival.

The “fingerprints” of our commission to build the pipe organ at Bethel United Methodist Church are found in many of our recently completed projects as well as those currently under contract with our firm.

Recent projects

• Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, Kentucky: the Aeolian-Skinner instrument representing two disparate time periods was recast as a new cohesive 115-rank organ in the American Eclectic style with an homage to its American Classic beginning.

• First Baptist Church, Hammond, Louisiana: new organ built after hurricane damage with some extant pipework.

• Druid Hills Presbyterian Church, Atlanta, Georgia: rebuilding of G. Donald Harrison Aeolian-Skinner organ with vintage Aeolian-Skinner additions to complete the original specification designed for the organ.

• First Baptist Church, Charleston, South Carolina: console rebuild with new relays, Positiv pipework, and other additions.

• Lucas Theatre, Savannah, Georgia: restoration and enlargement of Wurlitzer theater organ.

• Fox Theatre, Atlanta, Georgia: rebuild of four-manual “Mighty Mo” console and building of temporary console to be used during the rebuilding process.

• Episcopal Church of the Nativity, Dothan, Alabama: releathering and rebuilding of two-manual, 28-rank pipe organ by Angell Organ Company.

• Saint Jean Vianney Catholic Church, Baton Rouge, Louisiana: rebuilding and enlarging of Wicks organ.

Current projects

• All Saints Episcopal Church, Thomasville, Georgia: new three-manual console.

• First Baptist Church, Griffin, Georgia: new four-manual console.

• Holy Spirit Lutheran Church, Charleston, South Carolina: new three-manual console.

• United States Air Force Academy, Protestant Cadet Chapel, Colorado Springs, Colorado: rebuild of historic three-manual, 83-rank Möller/Holtkamp organ.

• United States Air Force Academy, Catholic Cadet Chapel, Colorado Springs, Colorado: rebuild of historic three-manual, 36-rank Möller/Holtkamp organ.

• North Point Methodist Church, Hong Kong: new organ division and façade.

• Peachtree Christian Church, Atlanta, Georgia: complete rebuilding with a new chassis of 1930 Henry Pilcher’s Sons organ installed in sanctuary chancel.

• Our Lady of the Assumption Catholic Church, Brookhaven, Georgia: new four-manual, 62-rank pipe organ.

• Most Holy Trinity Catholic Chapel, West Point Military Academy, West Point, New York: new three-manual, 24-rank pipe organ.

• Fox Theatre, Atlanta, Georgia: phased rebuilding of “Mighty Mo” Möller theater organ (console previously rebuilt).

Closing thoughts

Our work involves collaborating with people, their stewardship and faith. As a builder I have been privileged to attend many dedicatory concerts as well as morning church services. I must confess that as much as I have enjoyed the organ in recital, often I have taken far greater pleasure hearing the organ in a worship setting. This is not said to diminish the music brought forth by those who have played the organ in concerts, rather that hearing the organ taking its part in worship is a validation of the years of planning and work that go into such an instrument. Having been part of building an instrument that serves in worship is the greatest gift an organbuilder can have. It is a culmination of pride, passion, and a legacy that we are leaving behind to future generations.

The title “organbuilder” presumes long hours, travel, and a temporary suspension of personal lives. I am fortunate to have a skilled, dedicated staff who help sculpt the wood, zinc, lead, copper, and brass into poetry. Organbuilding is not the result of any single individual but of a team. A simple thank you is not enough for the colleagues I have the good fortune to work with.

We thank those congregations who have believed in us and treated us like extended family while we completed these instruments. They have buoyed us with their support and prayers and genuinely have become our friends and extended congregations.

I would be remiss if I did not single out my father and business partner, Art, for his work on behalf of the pipe organ industry and his role as mentor to me. In the late 1980s, there were changes in the governance and laws pertaining to National Electric Codes (NEC) and article 650, which regulates pipe organ wiring. Some of the existing code and many of the proposed changes would have been very problematic to American organbuilding. With support from the American Institute of Organ Building (AIO) and the American Pipe Organ Builders Association (APOBA), Art worked as a liaison between the NEC and the pipe organ industry for over twenty-seven years. He served on the code-making NEC panel for more than twenty-five years. This has resulted in a new set of appropriate electrical codes for the pipe organ industry that were accepted and adopted by the NEC and that we continue to work with to this current day.

I grew up in the firm and have watched it evolve and change over the years from a service company to a builder of instruments. The company has been dutifully led by my father. It is hard to imagine that post college, I have worked with Dad for over thirty-four years, during which time our roles have changed and evolved, with me moving toward a more forward management role over the last two decades. During our tenure together, I have been given a tremendous amount of freedom to grow the firm and to provide the artistic guidance to the visual and tonal direction of the firm. Without Art’s support (and patience), the company and my career may well have taken a very different trajectory. A very sincere debt of gratitude is owed to him, the founder of this firm.

We would welcome the opportunity to consult with you on your organ project; please let us know how we can help you. You are invited to visit our website www.pipe-organ.com to contact us and to view photos and information on the many instruments we have completed over the years.

—Arthur E. Schlueter III

Visual and Tonal Direction

A. E. Schlueter Pipe Organ Company