Discover the Organ®

Part 1 was published in the May 1996 issue of THE DIAPASON, pp. 10-13.

by Sally Cherrington

The Introduction of Organ Voluntaries: The Organist as Solo Performer

Despite the emphasis on the organist as an accompanist in
the first half of the nineteenth century, the playing of voluntaries did not
suddenly commence in 1850.  The use
of voluntaries became common in some churches after about 1810, although in
other churches (particularly those in rural locations) voluntaries were not
played until much later in the century. In 1835, Musical Magazine in New York
City published an article complaining about abuses in voluntary playing, which
contained the following comments on the problem of inappropriateness:

Every real proficient on the organ, knows that voluntaries
upon that noble instrument, ought to consist of broken passages, scattered
chords, etc., etc., which will not seize upon the attention of the listener but
rather soothe his mind, into calm collected meditation. Any thing like a
regular air would here be out of place. Even the learned harmonies of the
Germans, impressive and beautiful as they are, prove for the most part too
spirit-stirring, in their influence, for American voluntaries. Some of our
organists, however, have but little invention, and others but little taste. So
when they should either be silent or be endeavoring merely to soothe the
worshipers into devout meditation, they rouse them by a march, an overture, a
sonata, or a thundering chorus. . . . Such abuses, if tolerated, will bring
voluntaries into disrepute; if not lead to the expulsion of the organ from our
churches.57

Orpha Ochse adds wryly that if the situation was so bad in
the cultural and intellectual climate of New York City, one could only imagine
what sorts of things the untutored village organists were playing for
voluntaries.58

The common complaint of too much showmanship, which had been
levelled at the performance of interludes, was also carried over to
voluntaries. For example, Jane Rasmussen notes that Episcopal churches were
often the first in an area to get an organ, and whenever possible they would then hire a competent organist from Europe, New York, or Philadelphia. The organists often played virtuosic voluntaries as a form of advertising in order to attract students to supplement their church salaries.59 Whether justified or not, this virtuosity was generally considered distracting to the tone of the
service.  In non-Episcopal (or less
wealthy) churches, this problem would probably have occurred somewhat later in
the century due to the later technical development of native players, but it
became a problem nonetheless.

Charles Zeuner

Prior to the publication of Zeuner's collections of organ
voluntaries, most organists who played voluntaries improvised them.
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  Zeuner presented an alternative for
those who did not yet possess this skill. Zeuner's Voluntaries for the Organ, published in 1830, was the first collection of organ music published in the United States, and consists of six voluntaries.60 Although the use of the term "voluntary" and his designation of the pieces as "Before Service" or "After Service" suggests that he intended the pieces for church use, Zeuner indicated on the score that the pieces were "composed and dedicated to the Handel and Haydn Society, Boston,"61 a secular musical society. However, his second organ publication, Organ Voluntaries, published in 1840, is clearly a volume for the church organist. This is a longer and more comprehensive work than his first collection, and consists of two parts. The first part involves 165 interludes and short preludes in a variety of keys (to be used with hymns). Part II contains "Practical Voluntaries to be used before and after services in churches," with intended uses specified for each piece.62
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  These voluntaries have no pedal parts,
and contain dynamic markings but only minimal registration indications. This
collection forms a sort of bridge between the earlier "methods" and
the forthcoming collections of music with instructive introductions: it is the
first comprehensive printed collection for church use of interludes and (more
importantly) voluntaries, which were becoming the new focus of most organists,
but it does not yet include any of the descriptions and admonishments for
performing them that the later collections include.

The opposite situation occurs in an article from The
American Journal of Music, published in Boston on February 25, 1845, and
entitled "On the Use of the Stops of the Organ."63 The anonymous
author explains that although the organ is the instrument best suited for
extemporizing (voluntaries in church), he has never seen any "practical
treatises" on this subject. Therefore, he provides stylistic and
registration suggestions for voluntary playing. In contrast to Zeuner, this
instructional treatise is all text and no music.

Thomas Loud

Thomas Loud's organ method with its extraordinarily lengthy
title, discussed briefly in the first of this series of articles, was also
published in 1845.64   As the
title suggests, The Organ Study: Being an Introduction to the Practice of the Organ; together with a collection of Voluntaries, Preludes, and Interludes, original and selected; a Model of a Church Service; Explanations of the Stops and their Combinations; Studies for the Instrument; and Examples of Modulation intended to aid the Extempore Student; accompanied by an Engraving and description of the Mechanical construction of the Organ begins with explanations of organ basics important to Loud. These include descriptions of the basic organ mechanisms and stops, as well as practical matters such as beginning and releasing chords (Loud recommends rolling the notes individually from the bottom until all notes are sounding) and playing shakes. Significantly, he uses this material to lead into pointers on accompanying, illustrated in his model service for the Episcopal Church, before turning his attention to playing voluntaries. He does include two sample voluntaries in his "model service":  an introductory voluntary (shown in Example 1) and a voluntary for before the second psalm or hymn (in other words, an offertory). These voluntaries are musically straightforward, with basic registrations provided. Both include trills (shakes), an ornament that Loud seemed to feel was absolutely essential to the church organist's success. While the first voluntary is manualiter, the second indicates that the organist is to play certain bass clef notes with the pedals. Loud, however, provides small notes at these spots for those organists whose instruments do not have pedalboards.

Loud follows his model service with many pages of hymn
preludes and interludes in a variety of major and minor keys before furnishing
15 pages of voluntaries for church use, composed by himself and a variety of
other composers (Rinck, Cross, Russell, etc.). He does include several
voluntaries which are transcriptions, principally of religious works by Haydn.
He avoids the popular music pitfalls decried earlier in this article; although
he does include one "Religious March" by Gluck, it is quite austere
in character. At the end of this section, Loud adds a page illustrating the
"fine effect" of embellishing the end of a voluntary with a simple
suspension, emphasizing again the modest nature of this music.

At the end of his method, Loud provides some interesting
directions showing how to produce registrations of increasing power on instruments varying in size from four stops to modest three- manual stoplists, as well as ways to achieve particular registrations "effects." This leads into his closing and quite notable conclusions on voluntary playing, with which he ends his method. His concern is that voluntaries be consistently used, but not abused:

The style of performing (voluntaries) on this instrument
should always be in accordance with the use made of it, as forming a part of
the service of the Sanctuary; nothing therefore, opposed to the sacredness of
the place, can with propriety be introduced: whatever may be the character of
the Stops made use of, the music should be chaste and solemn, and all the
variety of the instrument, should (in the hands of the efficient performer) be
made conducive to the same subject. . . . Voluntaries should as much as
possible be suited to the subject of the discourse or character of the service
. . . 65

Loud continues by explaining how specific divisions or stops
can help to achieve these lofty goals. He concludes by explaining how to play
"fancy voluntaries," which his text implies are improvised and
probably not for use in church. 
His final admonishment is still applicable for improvisers today: "
. . . above all, remember to stop in time--a common fault with performers is,
that they never know when they have done enough."66

Cutler & Johnson

Before returning to Johnson's important American Church
Organ Voluntaries (mentioned in the first
article), we will make a brief digression to examine another of Johnson's
publications. Johnson originally published the Voluntaries in 1852 under his
name.  When it was republished in
1856, H. S. Cutler's name was included as well (see Example 2 - portraits of
Johnson and Cutler). A discussion of Cutler and the reasons for his addition in
the second edition is beyond the scope of this article, but apparently his
contribution was minimal (it is thought that perhaps he penned the
"Remarks"). Whatever the case, Johnson had originally intended to
write a second book, apparently planned in conjunction with American
Church Organ Voluntaries, called Instructions in the Art of Playing Voluntaries and Interludes and of Composing Simple Music. This book was conceived as a combination of an organ method and harmony book. It is thought that it existed in draft form and that Johnson was using it to teach his organ students. Unfortunately for the history of organ pedagogy, it was never published.67

Instead, Johnson published in 1854 his Practical
Instructions in Harmony, upon the Pestalozzian or Inductive System; Teaching
Musical Composition, and the Art of Extemporizing Interludes and Voluntaries. This book was unique in organ "methods" published to this point in that it was directed at the more sophisticated music student.68 Basically, it is a book of music theory with practical keyboard exercises. It was probably intended as a successor to Johnson's popular Instructions in Thorough Base which had undergone at least six reprints by this time, testifying not only to the need for these types of materials but also to the growing technical sophistication of the organist.

Johnson's Practical Instructions, however, contains no
discussion concerning church voluntaries, but approaches them from a completely
technical standpoint. This is not the case in American Church Organ
Voluntaries. The volume opens with
"Remarks," wherein the editors comment that one should speak of an
"opening voluntary" rather than a "voluntary before the
service" (as Zeuner does), since this voluntary is a part of the service
and should arouse the proper feelings in the listener for the worship which
will follow. They waste no time in criticizing the commonplace habit of playing
popular music, including bits of opera, as voluntaries. They warn the organist
not to give in to popular opinion which supports this sort of music, even if
they are getting pressure from a wealthy person in the congregation who has
money but no taste, ending by saying that in such cases it is better to
"vacate your office and retain the good opinion of all whose good opinion
is worth having" rather than to give in to "depraved taste."69
In regard to voluntaries after the service, Cutler and Johnson admit that there
are differing opinions on the value of playing music while people are leaving. They justify this practice by saying that there is already unavoidable noise at the end of the service as people prepare to leave, and therefore playing
appropriate music while this is happening will remind people for as long as
possible that they are still in the House of God. "What more appropriate
monitor than the solemn Diapasons judiciously managed?"70 The
"Remarks" answer many of the contemporary complaints mentioned
earlier.

The complete pre-publication title of this anthology, Organ Voluntaries, a Complete Collection, adapted to American Church Service, and designed for the use of Inexperienced Organists who have not Progressed far Enough in Their Studies to be able to Play Extemporaneous Voluntaries (i.e., improvised), indicates Johnson's purpose in compiling this collection--providing music for amateur organists. The voluntaries are all manualiter. Numbers 1-35 are opening voluntaries, while numbers 36-41 are opening voluntaries for use on festival occasions. Twelve closing voluntaries are included. Many of the voluntaries are by either Johnson or Cutler, but works by Haydn, Muller, Rinck, and Mendelssohn are included, as well as works by lesser-known composers of that period. The pieces contain some tempo, dynamic, and keyboard indications. The tempi vary, although in both the opening and closing voluntaries the majority of tempi designations provided are moderate. The voluntaries are one to two pages in length and generally homophonic in style. There are only isolated indications of sections with solo stops, marked in tiny print "solo . . . solo ends" (see Example 3 for the first half of an opening voluntary with these frugal registration markings). Thus there is nothing about these pieces which would relate them to popular music. Pinel suggests in the Foreword to the edition that although these pieces seem very plain to our contemporary ears, they would have been harmonically innovative, even "exhilarating," to mid-19th century rural listeners.71 (The harmony, while hardly daring, is more chromatic than that of the average hymns and service music.) One reason for the lack of excess in these pieces (and those in Loud's method) may have been the fact that Protestants were still strongly affected by the recent appearance of organs and conservative views of the appropriateness of instrumental music in
general.72 

The several printings of American Church Organ
Voluntaries testify to its popularity.
Gould comments that in his travels he did visit some congregations where the
voluntaries were appropriate and therefore useful (although he had many
negative experiences as well). Thus, Johnson and Cutler's music or at least the
approach to service-playing which it and Loud exemplified was represented in
practice and was not just a theoretical goal.

Southard & Whiting

Although organ methods from the Continent, American
materials for playing the harmonium or cabinet organ, and other unannotated
volumes of voluntaries appeared after Johnson's anthology, the next significant
collection was that of L. H. Southard and G. E. Whiting, entitled The Organist (1868). This volume is also an anthology of music for service use, with an introduction discussing registration and other useful information for the church organist. However, as will soon become evident, there are many
differences between this collection and that of Cutler and Johnson, despite the
similarity of their subjects and their separation in publication by only 16
years.

In the second half of the 19th century, one can observe the
rise of concert organs and concert organists. Large organs were built at
Tremont Temple in Boston (1853) and the Boston Music Hall (1863). The
increasing popularity and professionalism of orchestras fueled the popularity
of orchestral transcriptions for organ. 
Organists adopted some of the Romantic excesses of European organists,
such as the fascination in trying to recreate "storms" on the organ.
It is noteworthy that the first piece performed on the new Walcker organ in
Boston's Music Hall was the "Overture to William Tell" by Rossini.73
At the same time, the technical improvements and expanded size of organs made
it more practical to perform legitimate organ literature of greater magnitude
than the voluntaries.  The
dedication recitals of organs in churches now were devoted exclusively to organ
solos, whereas previously these events consisted of vocal solos accompanied by
organ with perhaps a few organ voluntaries.74 Several sources mention that Bach
organ works were performed in America for the first time in this period (about
the mid 1860s). Most of the concert organists, however, were English or
European.

In examining The Organist, these changes in organ literature in the second half of the 19th century are reflected.  The subtitle of the volume indicates that it is "a collection of voluntaries, studies, and transcriptions of moderate difficulty," and includes information on registration (which will be explored shortly).  The editors explain in the introduction that "melodious and piquant Voluntaries" are part of the church organist's responsibilities, and that therefore the aim of this volume is to supply opening and closing voluntaries which meet these requirements, complete with registrations.75 Like the Cutler and Johnson volume, this collection was apparently intended primarily for less experienced players who were not yet adept enough to improvise appropriate service music.  It is interesting that, unlike Johnson who taught improvisation based on models of Bach, Southard and Whiting refer the aspiring church improviser to the piano sonatas of Mozart and Haydn as a basis of study, pointing already to a sharp difference in outlook.

The music supplied for opening and closing voluntaries by
Southard and Whiting differs markedly from that of Cutler and Johnson. Even the
titles underscore this difference: although the term "voluntary" is
used in the introduction, the pieces are entitled "Prelude" and
"Postlude" (or "Postludium"--see Example 4). This implies a
slightly different function than the term "opening voluntary" which
Johnson carefully chooses (probably something closer  "voluntary before the service"). In addition,
several of the pieces have titles like "Reverie" or
"Romanza," reflecting a strong Romantic secular influence. The pieces
are much longer than those in American Church Organ Voluntaries
style='font-style:normal'>, and all include pedal parts on separate staves.
Three of the pieces are identified as transcriptions of Haydn, Mendelssohn, and
Mozart. The pieces are very pianistic technically, and include a multitude of
interpretive marks, including articulation, phrasing, and many dynamic
markings. Big chords alternate with solo passages, with all sorts of pianistic
accompaniment figures; one prelude even has a cadenza (#4), and piece #5, a
"Pastorale," contains running scale passages in 32nd notes. The
Postludes are all loud pieces, but the style of the Preludes varies widely, and
one is not always sure which category the pieces with other titles fall
into.  There is even a
"March," one of the styles specifically attacked by church music
critics of the previous generation.

It is interesting that the final piece in The Organist is Bach's "Celebrated Prelude and Fugue in e minor" (BWV 533), as edited by Mendelssohn. This seems to be a direct reflection of the apparently successful introduction of Bach into the concert organ repertoire at this time. It also suggests that organists were no longer expected to be able to distinguish sacred music from secular or concert repertoire, since both were equally acceptable in church. Apparently the responsibility of the organist to musically interpret the text and mood of the hymns and scriptures which had been emphasized earlier in the century was no longer a principal focus.

One of the most conspicuous differences between the two
organ anthologies, however, is in the treatment of organ registration. Here a
brief digression is necessary to survey the changes which had taken place in
organ construction between the writing of these two volumes. Although Americans
had begun building their own instruments instead of importing them from England
in the first half of the 19th century, the English influence remained very
strong.  By 1850, although loud
organs (by early standards) were increasing in popularity, the basic sound was
light and bright, emphasizing the diapasons and flutes, with some reeds and
strings included.  The manuals and
pedalboards were not standardized--both the Pedal and Swell divisions tended to
have incomplete ranges.76 The first large American organ was the Hook and
Hastings instrument installed in the Tremont Temple, Boston in 1853, with four
manuals and 70 stops.77 Thus, from about 1860 on, the enthusiasm for
increasingly louder organs continued, with a bolder, brighter sound appearing.
Console controls and nuances of the expression pedals became more important.
Organs now tended to be placed in the front of the church rather than hidden in
the balconies, and cases were often eliminated.78

These changes say a lot about the change in the role of the
organ in the church service. Around 1841, one writer complained that the organs
were sometimes unsuited for leading congregational singing, one of the possible
problems being that they were too small to really lead the singers and keep
them on pitch.79 However, by about 1850, Gould writes that performances were
gradually getting louder, complaining that in some churches the choir and
congregation combined could not sing above the organ, satisfying only those
"who are more pleased with noise than with sense."80 Johnson and
Cutler warn the organist about playing too loudly while accompanying in their
opening remarks, explaining that the organ should be subordinate to the
singers.81 However, it is interesting that in The Organist
style='font-style:normal'>, although the organs by this time must certainly
have been louder, this warning is never mentioned.

To return now to the topic of registration, both volumes
include information on registration in their introductions, as well as sample
specifications. (See Example 5 for the basic specification list from the Cutler
& Johnson collection.) As might be expected from the changes in organ
building, a much wider variety of stops is mentioned in the later volume. Both
collections describe stops, but Johnson and Cutler add information on the
purpose of some of these stops in worship.  For example, they recommend the diapason as "well
suited to church purposes in general," but guard against using the flute,
which "is a fancy stop, and generally much abused . . . when used as a
solo stop . . . the effect is suggestive of the theatre, or ball-room, rather
than the church."82 Within the pieces themselves, Johnson and Cutler
suggest only one specific stop in the entire volume, sometimes designating
where a solo stop should be used but not suggesting a particular stop. Southard
and Whiting, on the other hand, provide detailed registration suggestions at
the beginning and throughout every piece, as well as directions to use the
couplers, expression pedals, and tremulant. They also suggest in the
introduction that one of the responsibilities of the organist is to create
"striking and delicious effects of the organ," which they advise
requires the use of varied registrations and separate manuals.83

This emphasis on registration, coupled with the changes in
organs observed above, suggest that the role of the organist was changing by
about 1870. Although Johnson and Cutler provide basic material on registration
for the stops generally appearing on a "modern" organ, they are not
as concerned with how the organist applies or combines these stops as they are
with the spiritual effects that various stops induce.  Southard and Whiting, however, comment from the start that
"the chaotic droning and ridiculous combinations of stops which were
satisfying until within a few years, will no longer be endured by Congregations
of average musical culture."84 This implies a concern that the organist
have a greater technical knowledge of registration than was previously
considered satisfactory. But this comment also suggests that the organist is
now expected to start with the registration concepts of "musical
culture" of the society at large and apply them to the service of the
church, reflecting the increasing importance of musical culture in society in
general. This differs from the earlier outlook on registration which assumes
that the organist chooses stops based on their contribution to solemn worship
without regard for (or deliberately in contrast to) the types of sounds
associated with secular culture.

A final point of contention regarding registration is
illustrated in the closing comment of the introduction to The Organ
style='font-style:normal'>ist,
where the editors comment that they hope that their collection will "tend
to improve the taste and ability of players, and thereby create a general
demand for more complete and effective organs than are often found outside of
two or three of our largest cities."85 This is in marked contrast to
Cutler and Johnson, who, although they would agree with the goal of improving
the taste and ability of players, are trying to "improve" it in the
opposite direction from the goals of Southard and Whiting. It is noteworthy
that Gould writes in 1853 that organists should be careful that their playing
serves no other purpose than to recommend the organ and organ-builder86--what
Southard and Whiting seem to be suggesting as a positive goal.

It is interesting to note that in looking at the two
above-mentioned church music anthologies, there is scarcely any mention of
accompanying hymns and psalms. This may reflect the new rise of the use of
voluntaries and corresponding lack of suitable literature (thus the focus on
this aspect), or it may be considered a commentary on the relative lack of
importance of hymn-playing to these editors.  Southard and Whiting, for example, ignore the subject
altogether.

In studying the voluntaries in The Organ
style='font-style:normal'>ist, it
becomes apparent that some of the registration changes must have required
pistons, which as stated were becoming more popular. This makes the fact that
this volume excludes a discussion of registering hymns even more interesting,
since changes between verses of hymns to illustrate the meaning of the text
would now have been much easier and smoother. Perhaps due to the emphasis in
earlier years on accompanying, the editors were interested in looking ahead to new directions in church music.

Gavin Black

Gavin Black is the Director of the Princeton Early Keyboard Center in Princeton, New Jersey. He can be reached at [email protected].

Organ Method I

Note: This is the first excerpt from my Organ Method, as discussed in last month’s column. It is the Preface to that book, and, as such, is written with the audience of prospective readers and users of the book in mind. I strongly welcome any and all feedback from readers of this column.

 

Preface

This book is written and presented with one concrete purpose at its core. It is intended to offer to anyone who is interested a clear and reliable path towards becoming a highly competent player of the organ. I would like to examine a few of the specific implications of that concept.

1) First of all—and, in a way, most important of all—is the notion of “anyone who is interested.” One of the greatest joys of my years as a teacher of organ and harpsichord has been the discovery that no two people who develop an interest in something do so for the same reasons, with the same background, or with the same expectations. Any approach to teaching that suggests, even unwittingly, that some of those reasons, backgrounds, and expectations are more suitable than others will have the effect of excluding or discouraging a portion of those who are—or were, initially—interested. In the world of organ playing, some of the notions that can end up excluding or discouraging potential students are those derived from the world of music and music teaching in general: that after a rather young age it is essentially too late to become a truly competent and skillful musician, or that anyone who cannot develop perfect pitch, or become a good singer, or learn to take dictation cannot be or should not be a musician, or in general that only those “touched by the gods” can master the mysteries of understanding and playing great music. 

I am well aware that, fortunately, very few music teachers or working musicians hold this last attitude. Unfortunately, however, I also know very well that many prospective students do—people are scared off by it. No one should be. Some other of these notions are specific to the world of the organ, and many of them are indeed inadvertent or unwitting. (Certainly very few, if any, music teachers want to exclude or discourage anyone.) The assumption that anyone who wants to become an organist should specifically first become a pianist is one such notion. (It is one to which I am personally sensitive, as it almost derailed me from pursuing organ in my teenage years.) Certain approaches to the learning of pedal playing are so prohibitively uncomfortable to some people that they convince those people—wrongly—that they are just not cut out to be organists. I am also sensitive to this one. 

At an early point in my teaching career, I happened to encounter a couple of people who told me that they had really wanted to play the organ, but found it too uncomfortable to sit in some particular posture while learning to play the pedals. They had come to believe, perhaps because of something that they had read or that they had been told, that this posture was necessary, and they actually gave up. This felt to me at the time like a tragedy (both for their sakes and because I wanted there to be more organ students out there as I began my teaching career!) and it led to my developing my particular approach to pedal learning, the latest refinement of which is found in this book. Others are discouraged by being told that it is absolutely necessary that they work on some particular part of the repertoire that really—for the time being at least—doesn’t interest them. I don’t believe that there is any good reason for this—even for something as basic as requiring a student to play some Bach, for example—as I discuss later on in this book.

2) In order for it to be true that any interested party can work successfully on organ playing, it must also be true that this does not involve any “dumbing down.” If I am claiming that a particular approach to working on organ can be successful not just for selected students but for anyone who is interested, then I must mean that anyone can reach a high level of competence and understanding—not just dabble a little bit. I firmly believe this to be true. And I am reminded of the saying attributed to J. S. Bach, concerning organ playing that “All one has to do is hit the right notes at the right time, and the instrument plays itself.” I have always believed that he meant something quite specific by this: that it was not, as it perhaps sounds at first, a joke or some sort of dismissive remark. I believe that he meant that the organist does not have to create tone and intonation in the various ways that singers and many string and wind players do. The basic act of making a note happen on the organ, with its pitch and tone color intact, is simple. That is why it is appropriate for the world to provide us with such amazingly complicated music. It is also why learning to play organ very well—at least what we might call an “intermediate” level—is available to anyone who chooses to work at it.

3) The process of learning to play the organ is, I believe, natural, simple, very human, and available to all. I hope that this volume helps to make that convincing. It is not, however, easy. That is an important distinction, and its main implication for the student is that learning to play (well) requires both the time and the personal commitment to do a substantial amount of work—of practicing. To a large extent, an organ method should be a statement, fleshed out in considerable detail, that amounts to: this is how to practice. That statement should be clear—enough so that a student can follow it without already knowing everything that the writer of the method knows. If this is not the case, then the book has in fact failed to convey its message. It should be reliable: that is, the approach to practicing must really lead to results if it is followed. This latter point is indeed my main claim for this method. I certainly don’t make, and wouldn’t want to make, the ignorant and arrogant claim that other approaches and other methods don’t work—or even that they don’t work at least as well as this one. I will, however, make this claim, also arrogant unless it is true: that anyone who actually does all of the things described and suggested in this volume will—inevitably, everyone, every time—become a competent, skilled organist. This is another lesson that I have learned through thirty years or so of teaching, and it is one that gives me great joy. I hope, always, that anyone contemplating or starting the study of organ approaches it with optimism and joy. It has always been my goal as a teacher, and is my goal as the writer of an organ method, to help students feel that way about the process. But it is a process: it takes work, it takes time, and it takes patience.

Is there an ideal or core student to whom this book is addressed? The answer to that is yes and no. The “yes” side of the answer looks like this: a student who is old enough to think about matters of learning on his or her own, who can already read music, who has already done at least a bit of keyboard playing, on any instrument—that is, who starts with a basic sense of what it is to use fingers at a keyboard—and, of course, who is really interested in learning organ. I have tried to write in such a way that this student can use the book either with or without the guidance of a teacher, and that this student can, so to speak, plunge right in to work on organ. The section on pedal playing is completely “from scratch,” that is, designed in such a way that it can be used by someone who has never played a note on a pedalboard before.

Any student who does not fit that particular description can use this method just as fruitfully by bearing in mind a few things.

A student who does not read music must learn to do so, both to use this method and in general to function as an organist. That is not something that is dealt with directly in this volume. There are, as I write this, many online music-reading resources: there probably always will be, though of course they change all the time. Most or all community music schools—or colleges that offer music instruction to the public—have classes that include an introduction to reading music. These classes usually include other aspects of basic musicianship or elementary music theory that can be interesting and that are useful for beginners. Although I do not attempt to teach music reading here, I do, in side-notes, make suggestions for the benefit of those whose music reading is still new and not fully internalized. Such students should be able to feel all right about working on the early stages of learning to play while getting more and more comfortable reading.

In my opinion, a student who has never played any sort of keyboard instrument at all and who is interested in organ need not start with any instrument other than organ. There is certainly nothing actually wrong with starting on piano or harpsichord—except that for a student who is not particularly interested in those instruments or their repertoire it can be frustrating. But there is also no reason to do so. Everything practical that you need to know about organ playing can be learned by playing the organ. (There are certainly things to be learned artistically from an involvement with piano and its repertoire or harpsichord and its repertoire: also by any involvement with any other sort of music. I discuss this from time to time in the course of the later chapters of the book.) The relationship of this student to the pedal-playing work in this method will be exactly the same as that of the “core” student. However, the sections here about manual playing do not start absolutely from scratch—there are no basic exercises for just a few fingers, or similar things. A student who has never played before might very well want either to work with a teacher who can begin at the very beginning, or to consult a beginning keyboard method on his or her own—in print or online. I have tried to write in such a way that there is very little of this sort of preliminary work needed, the less so the more a student is able and willing to follow my suggestions about slow and systematic practice.

Students who have in fact already played organ—either a little bit or more than a little bit—can, I hope, also get something out of this method and this approach. This is true especially for anyone who finds pedal playing awkward. (As I have suggested above, my approach to pedal playing involves a kind of physical simplicity that some players find helpful.) It might also be especially true for a player who feels less than fully comfortable with the difficulties of grappling with complex counterpoint. Of course, an experienced or accomplished organist who is comfortable with all the main aspects of his or her playing is not likely in any case to need to consult an organ method. However, I have tried to include enough here in the way of generally interesting ideas, observations, and thoughts about the organ and the never-ending task of learning, that such a player might find it worth browsing through, as I myself have found it interesting to browse through a wide variety of organ methods, from at least Sir John Stainer on.

The method is organized as follows: 

1) A very brief introduction to the organ in general, geared mainly to what a student needs to know in order to start working. 

2) The section on pedal playing. This is the most categorical thing that a student who is already a pianist or harpsichordist needs to grapple with in order to begin the alchemical transformation into an organist. This section outlines, quite systematically, a comprehensive approach to playing pedals. It can certainly be used on a stand-alone basis by anyone whose main concern is either to learn pedal playing or to review and revise his or her approach to the pedals. This section includes—logically enough, though somewhat out of order—a set of protocols for practicing hands and feet together.

3) The section on manual playing. This section is largely about practicing, the most important aspect of work on organ playing. It includes, however, discussion of ways to approach work on counterpoint and other specific organ textures, thoughts about articulation and other interpretive matters, and discussion of registration. (My goal in addressing interpretive matters is always to help students create possibilities for themselves, never to tell them where they should end up.) For a student specifically hoping to make the transformation from non-organ keyboard player to organist, the second element of that transformation, less categorical than learning to play pedals, but just as important, is learning to manipulate the touch and sound of the organ in a way that is idiomatic and that opens up as wide a range of possibilities for expressive and communicative playing as possible. This is open-ended and subjective, but I try to provide a framework for thinking about it.

4) A longer discussion about the organ and its history and repertoire—not seen through the lens of “what a new student needs to know to sit at the console and get started” but rather as a slice of what an evolving organist might want to absorb about the instrument and its music. This includes a substantial number of suggestions for further research. It is characteristic of our times that information—say the detailed history of the evolution of a major historic organ—is easy to find, and that what is available changes (expands) rapidly. An organ method nowadays does not need to include, as a basic resource, a representative set of historic stoplists. It needs, instead, to inform the student about how best to find such information and how to understand it, and how to use it to create and expand possibilities.

 

 

Evidence of Baroque Practices

by Johannes Geffert

The pedagogy of organ performance must deal with the tension between playing technique and musical interpretation. On the one hand, all physical possibilities of playing ought to be developed, trained, and educated in a most intensive and versatile manner. On the other hand, musical interpretation demands a specially and carefully selected playing technique.

 

Since organ lessons usually follow several years of thorough piano study, playing on the manuals does not pose many problems at first, even when historical fingering (early fingering) is used. However it is a completely different matter when learning to play the pedal clavier. In wide sections of the organ world the opinion is generally accepted that in the organ music of the baroque and classical periods the pedals are to be played only with the toe of the shoe. A beginner whose repertory consists primarily of works from these early periods fails to develop a versatile technique that adequately serves pedal playing for subsequent periods which require both heels and toes.

I have observed that in my classes in improvisation, the most common limitation that impedes artistic abilities is a lack of a fluent pedal technique. This ubiquitous problem has led me to search for historical sources and to read most carefully and critically such writings in order to examine the arguments which furnish the reasons for toe-playing of music from the baroque era.  The very first sources mentioned in specialized literature which deal with questions of pedal application in detail are:

Johann Samuel Petri (1738-1808): Anleitung zur praktischen Musik (Guide to Musical Practice), Leipzig 1767/1; 1782/2, facsimile, Verlag Katzbichler, Giebing 1969.

Daniel Gottlob Türk (1750-1813): Beytrag von den wichtigsten Pflichten eines Organisten (On the Most Important Duties of an Organist), Halle 1787, facsimile Frits Knufs, Hilversum 1966.

Justin Heinrich Knecht (1752-1817): Vollständige Orgelschule (Complete Organ School), Leipzig 1795, facsimile, Breitkopf und Härtel, Wiesbaden 1989.

Johann Christian Kittel (1732-1809): Der angehende praktische Organist (The Beginning Practical Organist), Erfurt 1801, facsimile, Frits Knufs, Buren 1981.

J. C. Kittel: Choralbuch für Schleswig Holstein (Choral-Book of Schleswig-Holstein), Altona 1803.

Johann Samuel Petri

Petri sees himself for all practical purposes as a self-taught organist. Although he was brought up in musical surroundings--his father had first been a cantor, and his uncle had applied for the position of cantor of St. Thomas, Leipzig in 1755--he was not allowed to begin keyboard lessons until the age of sixteen. Such a late start on the clavichord had to be a hindrance to his technical facility. After only nine months' instruction Petri took over his teacher's post as organist following his mentor's death. Thus he became an organist without a thorough grounding in organ technique. Such laxness in making appointments appears to have been a common practice of the times, underscored by comments found in the writings of Türk, Knecht, and Kittel. The young Petri was not only an organist but also played the flute and stringed instruments, and even tried his hand at composing.  In 1762 he was appointed music teacher in Halle where he met Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. He wrote in his Anleitungen: "Mr. Bach from Halle, whose friendship and teaching I myself have had the benefit of in 1762 and 1763, is the most powerful organ player I have ever heard."1

So we safely assume that in Petri's Anleitungen the considerable number of eighteen pages which concern the playing of the pedals and which surpass many times over the comparatively poor directions given by Türk and Kittel was influenced by his contact with W. F. Bach. Petri's examples given in the Anleitungen are extensive and virtuosic, and they exhibit a freer and more artistic shaping than those of Knecht whose exercises are more schematic. At the beginning of his book Petri writes: " . . . so the organist should be allowed to display all of his artistic skill at a wedding ceremony, after the service or before the Te Deum and should be heard playing fiery and animated preludes, fugues and pedal solos with the full organ . . ."2 As do his later colleagues in their organ methods, Petri begins his instructions with pedal scales. In his preliminary remarks dealing with pedalling he quite naturally refers to using the heel according to his rule: " . . . depending on the position of the keys one foot may be used successively several times." (See Example 1)

Following that, he goes on to describe the under-and-over placing of the feet and also a so-called "footshoving." The latter is used when it is not possible to place one foot underneath the other one. (See Example 2)

Petri's demands concerning fluent pedal playing are stringent: " . . . pedal application for runs therefore have to be learned first."3 He also demands versatility: "But does one always know beforehand on which key or the other one will end up? Thus to be on the safe side you should be prepared for all cases."4 He favors using different pedal formulae: " . . . so that the beginner does not get used to only one alone."5

Petri's extremely different pedallings which he applies to scales fortify the impression of a talented, practical, and efficient self-taught organist rather than that of a methodically trained professional pedagogue. In cases in which his pedallings (with the heel!) do not please he advises: " . . . use the feet alternately although in some cases . . . it is a little troublesome."6 Obviously Petri reckons toe-playing to be a mere simplification of a fully differentiated and elaborate pedal technique!

On the whole Petri makes high de-mands upon pedal-playing: " . . . runs like rolls or barrels and semicircles," " . . . leaps in which the feet must climb about each other in a crosswise manner several times," " . . . polyphonic and mixed pedallings." In this connection Petri refers to possible difficulties when playing intervals with one foot owing to a "too short shoe."

Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart also comments upon special shoes for organ-playing and heel-playing in his book Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst (1784) (Ideas on the Aesthetics of Music).

Playing the pedals poses great difficulties, owing to both its immense power as well as its varying nature. You may seldom use the right foot as you do the left, because the one really belongs to the sphere of the violoncello obbligato and the other borders the nature of the violon and the bass trombone. One has to have one's own shoes made for playing the pedals, making the heels very high so that one can play thirds and even fourths by leaping. Otherwise, the theory of playing the pedals is the same as the basso continuo.7

Schubart also describes W. Fr. Bach: 

. . . doubtless the greatest organist in the world! . . . his organ playing matches or even surpasses that of his father's . . . Besides his great father no one else has ever reigned over the pedals with such an omnipotence as he has. He takes up a fugue subject with his feet, makes mordents and trills with his feet and is able to dazzle even the largest audience by his ability to play the pedals.8

Does not Petri in his versatile and practical approach to pedal-playing, and the fact that he was a student of the brilliant W. Fr. Bach place him in the same "Bach tradition" attributed to Kittel? Burney even calls Schubart "scholar of the Bach school . . . He was an organist in Ulm for some time."

Daniel Gottlob Türk

Turning to Türk, one finds little information about his training on the organ. Records show that he was taught music at the Kreuzschule in Dresden by Homilius, a Bach scholar, and he had piano lessons for three months with Johann Wilhelm Hässler. In chronicles written by Scherder of Altenbruch it is revealed that Türk took up music late in life--in fact only after he completed his apprenticeship to a draper and served for years as a journeyman in that business.9 Nevertheless, he was appointed organist of the well-known Frauenkirche in Halle in 1787. In his Beytrag von den wichtigsten Pflichten eines Organisten (On the Most Important Duties of an Organist), Türk relegated pedal instruction to a mere three pages, and he describes ways of playing a few scales, but advises organists who are beyond that low level to skip them.10 On the whole, the bulk of his writing was aimed at "improving the musical liturgy" and is meant for schoolmasters, preachers, church committees, and persons who choose to become liturgical organists. The intention of teaching a person to become a competent artistic or virtuosic musician was evidently not in his thinking! Türk gives an example to show "where both parts of each foot are needed" and refers to Petri. (See Example 311)

Türk writes:

It does not suffice to play the low registers with the left, and the higher ones with the right foot, because this would cause an incoherence and leave many gaps, even at a moderate pace. [This can be interpreted as being in favor of playing cantabile tending towards a true legato.] . . . In fact each foot acts as two fingers; because you play with the toe (front part) and with the heel [!]. Training continuously in this manner one may reach a quite high level of dexterity.12

It would be difficult to discern exactly what Türk classified as real pedal dexterity. However, as exemplified by Türk himself, organ-playing was at a very low level both in rural and in urban regions: "Many a person has the silly custom of resting his foot on the pedal throughout his most tasteless runs. This results in most hideous dissonances and everything ends up as a motley jumble."13 His advice for accompanying instrumental music is also highly significant: "It is better not to play with the pedal those passages which are very rapid, especially the runs, and which you cannot shape in a clearly distinct and 'round' manner; instead, these should preferably be played with the left hand."14 Türk writes in his introduction what he demands from a good organist: good choral (hymn) playing, a thorough knowledge of the basso continuo, and the ability to play good and appropriate preludes.

Justin Heinrich Knecht

Knecht denounces the technique of touching the pedals lightly for single notes, a performance practice that Petri did not condone: " . . . therefore an organist must be careful to express everything by the pedals in order to avoid a gap here and a gap there."15 The first volume of Knecht's organ method, which is of interest here, was published in 1795. For the first time a formally trained organist with a technique based upon virtuosic expectations comes up with a didactic work. Naturally it stresses basic playing techniques. As a student of Vogler, Knecht already belongs stylistically to a different musical world, a fact which promptly arouses Türk's criticism. Knecht devotes his attention to proper development of pedal technique and related matters for eleven pages, and he addresses his teaching not only to beginners but also to the more advanced players.

It is curious to note that he attacks problems of pedalling from two perspectives: one for the organist who is required to play upon a pedalboard of only an octave or a little more, and one for the fortunate person who had a full pedalboard of twenty-five or more notes. For the former, he advises a rigorous toe-playing approach. It was easier on a small pedal clavier to use toes, alternating feet as much as possible. On such a limited span of pedal keys either foot could play any note. For the latter, the pedalboard of at least two octaves, it was physically difficult for the right foot to reach the low end and vice versa.16, 17

Knecht himself did not consider pedalling with "toes only" a sensible practice on a full length pedalboard as is now the case in many quarters today. He therefore describes a second kind:

According to this [second kind] when playing an ascending scale passage one places the toe on a pedal key and turns the heel towards the next key in order to press it down with the heel. Then one turns the toe towards the third key and thus continues using alternately heel and toe . . . depending on the position of the upper keys of the pedals one has to use the heel more often . . . One should train oneself to use this pedalling which is to be preferred to the first [toes only] in every respect, and which the great organist Vogler mostly used.18

In addition, Knecht makes it a rule: "Except in cases of urgency, beware of pressing the upper note with the heel or hopping from one key to the other with the toe."19

As exceptions Knecht then brings forth examples of scales in which two consecutive upper keys are played by the toe of the same foot and even a scale in which an upper key is played with heel.20 Note the high G-sharp in the example below, a possibility which even the most ardent advocate of heel-playing might find questionable and uncomfortable. (See Example 4)

Knecht summarizes: "If one combines both pedallings a third one emerges which is the most convenient and which also has practical advantages."21 In his final exercises for polyphonic pedal-playing he gives additional instructions as to the choice of heel or toe to generate a strict legato.

Considering all of the aforementioned, it is safe to assume that Knecht was a highly skilled organist. His musical sensibilities evidently prompted him to pay attention to the danger of allowing the pedal to interfere with the overall musical fabric when dealing with contrapuntal music. "Using the pedal too much, especially when holding deep and low sounds fills the ear too much and becomes monotonous."22 According to Knecht it usually suffices "when one touches the pedals lightly to stress the main notes in order not to darken a melody or an outstanding delicate accompaniment by a continuous droning of the pedal."23 This was not a new idea, having already been mentioned in 1710 by Friedrich Erhard Niedt in his book Musicalischen Handleitung.24

Johann Christian Kittel

Turning to Kittel, we learn that his writings are considered to have special importance since he is known to have had lessons with J. S. Bach for two years when he was sixteen years old. Kittel does not favor us with any information about pedal playing technique passed on to him by the great master himself. He mentions only that he received instructions for composing music and for playing the 'Clavier'.25 Assuming that all keyboard instruments were covered by the term 'Clavier' his organ studies were not touched upon as being special. This is why Forkel writes about him later: "He is a thorough (although not a very dextrous) organ player."26

It is very interesting that in his instruction book Der angehende praktische Organist (The Beginning Practical Organist), Kittel does not give any practical explanation for performing nor does he supply any exercises for the novice. His book rather elaborates upon the theological, artistic, and aesthetic values necessary for playing the organ effectively in church. In this context he explains numerous rules dealing with figured bass and the theory of composition which underlie the matter of accompanying the German chorals. This is the only context which Kittel touches when he mentions a "method which is completely formed along the principles of Bach."27 Also, his account of having 'lessons' (Unterricht) with Bach28 refers solely to this context.

Yet, his own compositions reveal that he wrote in a simpler, sensitive and galant style, especially from an aesthetic point of view; Bach's former student had moved quite a distance away from his teacher. Kittel describes music as a language of sensitivity:

Happy is he who was given by nature and science the power of the Almighty to move, to heighten and to lead the hearts of thousands closer towards the Supreme Being by his playing . . . Lo, these tears of affection which are the most holy ones to be shed, these hearts so moved all wave up to God and you are the one who made flow these tears and moved these hearts . . . Reflect diligently upon the purpose of your playing, and always try to improve your moral behavior . . .  the character of organ playing is strength, cordiality, dignity, solemn earnestness, majesty.29

Even though these objectives are disdained in many circles today, in my opinion they are not evidence of a decay in church music. (Every kind of theology forms its own corresponding music.) However, concerning Kittel's ideas here, there is nothing much left of the school and tradition of J. S. Bach.

There was a good and practical reason for Kittel to write his book for beginners: the level of organ playing in Germany was extremely bad in all but the largest metropolitan centers. Proof of this can be found in another writing of Kittel: the Choralbuch für Schleswig Holstein, Altona 1803. Kittel describes the same applications for the pedals as Knecht does: the exclusive toe-playing with alternating feet, here called the "first and superior" kind, and the second kind which is to play with toe and heel of the same foot, here called the "older way." He warns of using the latter, however, "because one may easily destroy the pedal keyboard by clumsy usage. This second way may be used with the first (toe) method, but the first is to be preferred in all respects."30 One can estimate the quality of his fellow organists when it can be seen that he has to explain the distribution of the four parts of the choral for the two hands!

Summary and analysis

Surveying the teaching literature chronologically, I am convinced that it was deemed necessary and of great importance to provide help for organists who had no means of serious organ study and who depended largely upon self-help method books for private study. We cannot draw valid conclusions about the playing proficiency of all four writers dealt with so far. We know that Knecht and Petri held respectable positions and wrote studies that would have been helpful to even advanced players. Türk and Kittel, on the other hand, were concerned primarily with the liturgical aspect of organ playing. They act not as experienced organists drawing upon a rich vein of professional training as performers upon the organ, but as high clerical officials with that as their primary station in life--not first and foremost performers.

The first author, Petri, still deals quite naturally with heel playing, and his demands upon pedal dexterity are the most extensive of all. Kittel, the last author of the four, favors and demands the playing of the pedals with toes only, but we must not forget that his words were directed at the beginner and the untrained.

In my opinion the reasons are less to be found in a historical tradition than in pedagogic aims. At the end of the 18th century the duties of appointed teachers and organists were being merged. "The union of school and church offices hopelessly overburdened the musician-educators, and the situation corresponded to the union of throne and altar."31 The education of teachers thus implied obligatory organ study, whether the future teacher was talented and willing or not. "In many cases this was not in the least appropriate for creating qualified organists."32 "Someone who could already accompany the chorals regularly with the organ, without pedals, was considered in some rural districts to be an advanced organist."33

At the end of his book, Der angehende praktische Organist, Kittel writes:

Many organists do not have any knowledge of music theory. Their art on the whole is limited to making scanty work of a choral and to playing an easy and studied prelude or postlude without faltering or stumbling. To be fair, one cannot demand much more from any single man who should at the same time be an organist, a teacher, and maybe a verger, and who never has had the benefit of a scholarly education . . . and who is troubled by poor domestic circumstances.34

Seen from this angle, Kittel's pedalling directions can be understood in a completely different light: using the toes for the pedals is undoubtedly the easiest and most natural way for beginners. Kittel's strong emphasis on toe playing and his warning about damaging the pedalboard when using the heel is aimed at those poor students who were totally without talent or the time to develop a genuine technique. Regular pedal exercises would undoubtedly have brought forth a different and more musical pedalling.

Unfortunately, it is impossible to obtain any knowledge about J. S. Bach's pedal playing from these available sources with which we have been dealing. Forkel describes Bach's pedal technique from the viewpoint of a later generation:

Bach . . . used . . . the pedal obbligato in a way known to very few organists. He did not only pedal the ground tones (bass notes) or the lowest notes ordinarily played by the fifth finger of the left hand, but played a complete melody with his feet which was of such a nature that others would scarcely have been able to play it with their five fingers.35

A contemporary of Bach by the name of Mitzler praises him: "With his two feet he was able to execute passages of a kind that would have given many a skillful player of the keyboard great pains to negotiate with his five fingers."36 Gerber writes: "His feet had to imitate every subject and every passage which the hands had played beforehand. No appoggiatura, no mordent, no tied trill was allowed to be missed or to sound less nice and round."37 A certain Bruggaier recorded: "J. S. Bach is singularly outstanding concerning his most skillful usage of the organ pedals."38 In another instance he continues: "Bach's double pedal playing originates from the same disposition as do fugues for solo violin. Both are an expression of an instinct for virtuoso performance which sometimes ignores technical limits."39

The only instructions for using toe pedalling ascribed to J. S. Bach himself come from his student Tobias Krebs.40 Krebs' comments, however, I am compelled to analyze in the same context as those of Kittel's pedal instructions: as a guide for neophyte organists, often forced to teach themselves. Albrecht writes about a toe-heel technique learned from Johann Caspar Vogler who was also a student of Bach.41

In all likelihood, those organists who were able to play the organ, including pedals, in true virtuosic style during the baroque era numbered only a few. Among the organists from Tunder to Krebs (1630-1780) one can find only a handful with a pedal technique that well-trained organists today take for granted. Because of this fact it is impossible to point to any scheme or course of study of that time that could have brought about widespread technical proficiency in pedal playing. Those who excelled were gifted and were persons of vision. A survey of the organ music of the period in question reveals that the bulk of it does not require a facile pedal technique and can be played most easily using only toes. It is the monumental and demanding masterpieces of the few that prompt us to doubt the efficacy of following the "toes only" plan for all baroque pieces.

Historical research uncovers other good reasons for widespread pedalling using only toes. Many of the old organs had pedalboards of such varying dimensions that a universal technique was out of the question. Many historic organs are indeed impossible to play using heels for the simple reason that the pedal dimensions preclude it. The pedals are too short, front to back, for anything but toes, and often the console layout made the player sit in a rather unbalanced position that would have prevented using heels. In spite of these drawbacks, in some situations it is possible for the expertly trained organist to use heels occasionally. So much de-pends upon such things as size of the foot, height of the player, as well as the training. In all of the writings to be found, only one person, Eduard Bruggaier, gives specific details about pedalboards and their dimensions.42 According to the results of his measuring the long keys of the Compenius organ in Frederiksborg (43 cm) or those of Gottfried Silbermann (55 cm) it would be possible to play with the heels, even with the size of our feet nowadays. In any case, I am confident that if there is enough space to pass one foot over or under the other for toe-playing, there is also space enough for using the heel on the keys.

Many sources document that even when historic organs were being built, undersized pedalboards provoked anger and criticism by the true virtuoso players. Of course, such organists were the tiny minority. Arnolt Schlick wrote in Spiegel der Orgelmacher und Organisten in 1511: "So do not make the pedal keys too slim or too broad, but take a reasonable common measurement for the usage of everyone so that he may strike two parts with one foot . . . the sharp key of the pedals should not stand upwards at the end, but be even."43

Jacob Adlung from Erfurt, a predecessor of Kittel, wrote about the keys:

The keys should not be too short, because the feet are otherwise not able to be placed one after the other comfortably. The width of the keyboard has to be the same in every other organ, because it would be annoying having to change the accustomed way of playing for each organ. It should be possible to reach the outer keys without trouble when sitting in the middle, and furthermore having enough room for the feet.44

Again:

The whole pedalboard should be in-stalled a little inwards, because if one wanted to play something special, it would otherwise not be possible to move. The reason for this is that feet sometimes have to follow each other and there must be enough room for them. If you want to gain space by setting the bench farther away, the manual would be too far away to play . . . Such players who do not make much fuss about the pedals do not need such de-vices: however, one has to build in such a manner that it is convenient for a wide range of players . . . Also the lightness of touch is to be praised . . . times change; nowadays one wants to play two or three tailed notes [sixteenth or thirty-second notes] which one also should be able to slur.45

In the organ method book of Johann Gottlob Werner it is printed: "It is preferred to make the pedal keys out of oak wood and to adjust the length in such a manner that it is convenient to place one foot after the other . . . It should also be considered that proceeding with the toe and heel of one foot should be possible in a most convenient way."46

Johann Christian Wolfram writes:

In cases in which the organist is obliged to stretch far out to reach the manual and consequently is in constant danger of falling off the bench or if the manual is too close, too low, or too high . . . in all these cases the manuals have been installed wrongly, because it hinders good and convenient playing. It is incredible how unconcerned our good ancestors were in this respect[!]. One finds old organs at which the poor organists must have made a quite comical figure!47

When writing his book, Wolfram "had in mind the organists and rural school teachers who in most places performed the duties of the church organist."48

People everywhere were lamenting the poor organ playing in the churches and also were criticizing bad organ construction. From the point of view of the poor organ builders, it was quite probable that they had to build the minimum instrument for the situation, considering that the church would not spend more money than was necessary and their instruments were to be played by organists quite pedestrian in capabilities. Pedalboards did not have to be complete and versatile divisions for the run-of-the-mill usage.

In the end, perhaps one should even be allowed to point out that 200 years ago people generally were of smaller stature. According to a study by Professor George Kenntner49 the average height has increased by 20 cm (7 7⁄8 inches) from 1750 to today. Therefore, what we consider too-small pedalboards today might not have been such a problem then.

Always of great interest are the questions as to whether musicians and musical aesthetics helped to develop the art of organ building or whether the latter brought on styles of playing, or whether compositions helped develop technical improvements in the instrument or vice versa. How extremely different are the historic instruments from each other in cases in which we can be certain the old organ has not been altered. Just a few examples: Some actions are quite easy to play while others on the contrary are almost impossible because of the hard action; wind may be steady, even under full organ, whereas a neighboring organ has wind so shaky that it is truly an abomination; organs are tuned to different intonations, so a piece of music that sounds right on one will sound ugly on another; organs with short octaves allow the hand to span a tenth with ease, while on a standard keyboard that is not possible for many players; the compass of the keyboards vary in range as much as an octave. In short, organ playing is always a new experience and depends completely upon the individual instrument and its location.

Thus, a true historical interpretation, applying the most detailed knowledge possible, about practical performing conditions would be nothing more than a mere attempt to find the 'best' solution for the individual instrument, and let us admit that after all is said and done, the musical outcome is in the hands and feet of the organist interpreting the music.

When I teach pedal playing I sympathize with Petri: One has to be 'armed' to encounter all kinds of pedalboards, all shapes and styles. I believe that a pure application of toe-playing must be understood and practiced, but not to cling to it rigorously. To understand it is necessary to employ it to make musical sense: " . . . a secure and effortless technique will free the player to concentrate on playing more musically and communicating with the listener . . . "50 This in fact is the whole point: to let the music speak, and not be overly compelled to adhere to narrow views on toe or heel.

Prepared for publication in English by Emmet G. Smith, Fort Worth, Texas.

Notes

                  1.              Petri, Anleitungen sur praktischen Musik, p. 101.

                  2.              Petri, loc. cit., p. 298.

                  3.              Petri, loc. cit., p. 315.

                  4.              Petri, loc. cit., p. 317–318.

                  5.              Petri, loc. cit., p. 321.

                  6.              Petri, loc. cit., p. 321.

                  7.              Ch. F. D. Schubart, Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst, Verlag Reclam, Leipzig 1784/1, p. 220.

                  8.              Ch. F. D. Schubart, loc. cit., p. 96.

                  9.              According to G. Fock, Zur Biographie J. Kittels, in Bachjahrbuch 1962.

                  10.           Türk, Von den wichtigsten Pflichten eines Organisten, loc. cit., p. 158.

                  11.           Türk, loc. cit., p. 159.

                  12.           Türk, loc. cit., p. 158.

                  13.           Türk, loc. cit., p. 158.

                  14.           Türk, loc. cit., p. 107.

                  15.           Türk, loc. cit., p. 314.

                  16.           See Knecht, Vollstandige Orgelschule, loc. cit., vol. l, p. 45.

                  17.           See Christian Namberger, Untersuchungen zu ergonomischen Optimirung von Orgelspielanlagen, Verlags-GmbH Kleinbittersdorf, 1999.

                  18.           Knecht, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 47.

                  19.           Knecht, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 48.

                  20.           Ibid.

                  21.           Knecht, loc. cit., vol. 1, p. 51.

                  22.           Knecht, loc. cit., vol. 1, p. 85.

                  23.           Knecht, loc. cit., vol. 1, p. 81.

                  24.           Friedrich Erhard Niedt, Musicalische Handleitung, Hamburg, 1710, facsimile, Frits Knuf, Buren, 1976, Chap. IV, p. 43.

                  25.           Letter to the 'Consistorium' in Zeitz in 1756.

                  26.           Johann Nikolaus Forkel, J. S. Bach, facsimile edition, Frankfurt, 1950, p. 43.

                  27.           Kittel, Der angehende praktische Organist, Preface.

                  28.           Kittel, loc. cit., 3. part.

                  29.           Kittel, loc. cit., Introduction, p. 4ff.

                  30.           Cited by Knufs facsimile, p. 65.

                  31.           Arnfried Edler, Typen des protestantischen Kantors im 19. Jahrhundert und ihre Musik, in Zur Orgelmusik im 19. Jahrhundert, Verlag Helbling, Innsbruck, 1983, p. 17.

                  32.           Ibid.

                  33.           Arnfried Edler, loc. cit., p. 17.

                  34.           Kittel, Der angehende praktische Organist, loc. cit., 2. part, p. 95.

                  35.           Johann Nikolaus Forkel, J. S. Bach, loc. cit., p. 37.

                  36.           Musicalische Bibliothek, IV, l, p. 172. Cited by Peter Krams, Wechselwirkungen zwischen Orgelkomposition und Pedalspieltechnik, Wiesbaden, 1974, p. 67.

                  37.           Ernst-Ludwig Gerber, Historisch-Biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler, Leipzig, 1812/14, vol. I, p. 90; cited by Peter Krams, ibid.

                  38.           Eduard Bruggaier, Studien zur Geschichte des Orgelspiels in Deutschland bis zur Zeit Johann Sebastian Bach, dissertation, Frankfurt, 1959, p. 137.

                  39.           Bruggaier, loc. cit., p. 149.

                  40.           See Klotz, Orgelspiel, in MGG, vol. 10, col. 389.

                  41.           Christoph Albrecht, Zur Artikulation Bachscher Orgelwerk, in Der Kirchenmusiker, 1988, p. 3.

                  42.           See Bruggaier, loc. cit.

                  43.           Cited by Peter Krams, Wechselwirkungen, loc. cit.

                  44.           Jacob Adlung, Anleitung zu der musicalischen Gelahrtheit, Erfurt, 1758, facsimile, Bärenreiter, 1953, p. 359.

                  45.           Musica mechanica II, p. 26, cited by E. Bruggaier, loc. cit.

                  46.           Johann Gottlob Werner, Orgelschule, Penig, 1807, p. 31.

                  47.           Johann Christian Wolfram, Anleitung zur Kenntniss, Beurtheilung und Erhaltung der Orgeln, Gotha, 1815, facsimile, Frits Knuf, Amsterdam, 1962, p. 117.

                  48.           J. Ch. Wolfram, loc. cit., Prologue VI.

                  49.           George Kenntner, article in Friedericiana, Zeitschrift der Universität Karlsruhe, part 46.

                  50.           Gerard Brooks, Your Feets Too Big, in Organists' Review, August, 1997.   

by Sally Cherrington

Introduction

Before examining the history of the development of organ pedagogy in America, it is necessary to understand some background on the early use of the organ in this country. The organ as an instrument of worship had a difficult journey to acceptance in the United States. The Puritans outlawed the use of instruments in their churches, partially as a revolt against what they regarded as the pretentious services of the Church of England1, but principally in support of the anti-instrumental music views of the Fathers of the early church.2

The Lutherans and Anglicans, however, bore no such prejudices, and can be recognized as having introduced the liturgical use of the organ to the colonies. Anglican churches were especially important in the growth of organ usage in the United States because of the number of organs they imported from England throughout the eighteenth century. The wealthier Anglican churches also imported organists; as William H. Barnes comments:

Organists too, were imported and we hear of those who functioned as dancing masters, clerks, and grocers and wine merchants like Boston's organist-composer Selby . . . ship masters and business men were deputized by their parishes to contract for organs, or to hire musicians, whose ability in more than one case, was to "Play upon ye organs with a loud noise!"3

Eventually, Puritan liberals began to raise the issue of using organs in their own churches. Finally in 1786, the First Church in Boston installed a permanent organ, followed in 1790 by the Brattle Square Church.4 The battle for acceptance of organs was not over, but the tide had turned decisively, and the installation of organs began in earnest.

In small city churches and rural churches, the acceptance of organs took a different route. Objections to instrumental music were initially compromised by the introduction of the violoncello to accompany congregational singing, which had sunk to a deplorable state. This was followed, according to Nathaniel Gould (in his significant book, Church Music in America, published in 1853), by the flute, hautboy, clarinet, and bassoon. Gould attributes the final sanctioning of organs to the problems caused by this array of instruments, including their competing for attention in performance and their propensity for tuning while the minister was speaking.5 Despite these problems, the installation of organs into smaller, rural churches was a slow and highly-contested process. Even in the early 1800's (and sometimes as late as 1850) some congregations were still reluctant to install organs.6

Once organs were installed, the difficulties were often only beginning. Accounts of the reactions to the use of the organ in church were varied. Gould, after writing of the complaints of congregations regarding singers, comments that "in regard to the organist, there is less knowledge, and if possible, more complaints, or diversity of opinion,"7 both in regard to the repertoire used in church and the general role of the organist. These issues were complicated by the fact that as organs were finally accepted they were installed at a relatively rapid rate, making it difficult to find competent organists, particularly ones who could play well enough to accompany singers.

Despite the relative abundance of information on early American organs and organ builders and the organ acceptance controversy, there is little information about the organists themselves and how they were trained in the United States for their roles in the church. Louis Elson mentions that Christ Church in Philadelphia had an organ soon after 1700, and that a few music teachers settled there at an early date.8 Boston, New York, and Charleston were also centers where foreign-born professional organists performed and taught.9 One citation from 1799 describes a Mrs. Von Hagen of Boston who taught organ lessons, her curriculum including theory, lessons, sonatas, concertos, and church music.10 These accounts suggest that private organ instruction was already taking place in the 1700's, despite the controversy over the use of the organ in worship (possibly supported at least in part by the existence of a fair number of "parlor organs" during the pre-revolutionary war era in homes).11 However, early organ education in the United States involved not only training enough organists technically to suit the increasing demand, but also training both American and Continental organists to meet the specific service-playing needs of American churches. There is a fascinating relationship between the development of organ "methods" and other instructional publications and the emergence and development of the role of the church organist in worship.

In fact, in examining the overall history of American organ methods, it becomes apparent that the emphases of these works varied rather consistently according to their chronological period. This is the first of a series of articles which will examine the evolution of these changing emphases, their relationship to changes in organ construction and the musical tastes and sophistication of American religious and musical society, and most importantly, how they reflect the development of the role of the organist in American society. This exploration will begin with publications to about 1850 which focus on the role of the organist as a player of hymns and accompaniments.

The Earliest Organ Publications: The Organist as Accompanist and Hymn-Player

The controversy over the appropriateness of organs in worship was not unique to the United States. For several centuries the English battled over the same issue, so that even throughout the eighteenth century the use of organs was only common in large urban churches.12 Two of the most outspoken proponents of instrumental music, Thomas Mace (1676)13 and John Newte (1700)14, justified using the organ in assisting vocal music rather than as a solo instrument in worship. This concept of the church organist as accompanist was carried over to America, where the earliest defense (e.g., James Lyon, etc.) and acceptance of the organ was in accompanying the congregation and later the choir. As Orpha Ochse comments, "their [organs] acceptance has usually been ascribed to a more liberal attitude, but actually, the deplorable state to which congregational singing had fallen prompted some of this liberality."15

A detailed discussion of the attempted "reform" of congregational singing, the advent of American "Tune Books", and the rise of singing schools is beyond the scope of this article. However, several relevant points should be noted.

The earliest extant music printed in the United States was an appendix to the Psalm Book of 1698 printed for colonists in Boston. Directions given at the beginning were extremely basic, and indicated the very low level of musical knowledge in the United States at that time. Under each note was the initial of a syllable used to sing the pitch.16 Over the next 100-150 years, many more of these tune books were published, although it was not until 1804 in the Bridgewater Collection that instrumental accompaniments or interludes first appeared.17 Sacred vocal music monopolized the American publishing scene. George Hood, in his annotated listing of all music books printed in America to 1800, lists only singing and psalm books,18 while Frank Metcalf, in 54 pages of descriptions of American books on sacred music between 1721 and 1820, lists only one book related to keyboard music, Andrew Law's The Art of Playing the Organ and Piano Forte, published in 1809 (to be discussed shortly).19 Up to this point, the absence of organ materials speaks eloquently of the organ conflict.  Daniel Bayley, in his A New and Compleat Introduction to the Grounds and Rules of Musick (1766), offers some pro-organ comments in the preface to Book One, but then comments at the end of the introduction that his work is specifically not intended for instrumentalists. After covering the rudiments of music in his introduction, he comments "There are some other things that occur . . . (especially) in Instrumental Music; but as they do not concern this undertaking, I shall take no notice of them."20  Similarly, Thomas Walter's method of 1721 explains that there are "Rules for the right Management of an Instrument"21--but he does not explain what they are.  Clearly organists are left to fend for themselves--or to turn to European teachers or methods.

In 1786, the first American document which provides instructional directions for the church organist appeared in the form of a letter written by Francis Hopkinson (1737-1791), an eminent statesman, organist, and composer. Hopkinson's stated purpose was to "suggest a few rules for the conduct of an organ in a place of worship, according to my ideas of propriety."22 Hopkinson examines the musical parts of the Episcopal service, making interpretive and technical suggestions for the organist and emphasizing the role of music in accompanying and interpreting the spoken and sung texts of the worship service.  However, his letter was addressed to Bishop William White of Christ Church and St. Peter's, Philadelphia, and therefore apparently was not intended primarily for the edification of his fellow organists. Its instructional merit may have been realized later, since the letter was reprinted between 1827 and 1829 in several Episcopal periodicals in articles on the organ and church music.23 In any case, his didactic comments would be useful only to organists who had already acquired their basic technique elsewhere and required instruction in specific aspects of service-playing.

Andrew Law, however, took a different approach. Law (1748-1821) published his Harmonic Companion, and Guide to Social Worship . . .  in 1807, and two years later published a companion guide for a keyboard player: The Art of Playing the Organ and Piano Forte, or Characters Adapted to Instruments. Law taught extensively along the eastern seaboard, and devised a "shaped note" system for indicating the sol-fa syllables of pitches.24 (The use of these syllables dates back to the earliest tune books.) Law's system involved the use of four shapes without regular staff notation. This system is used in both of the aforementioned methods. In The Art of Playing the Organ, Law states that his main purpose is to train people to play from the same music as the singers (presumably making it easier to accompany them). Law makes some interesting comments in the Introduction, where he states that this method will allow a child to learn to play the piano forte in one year as well as he could from the "old method" in two years. He goes on to state that this is important because:

it may be asserted with truth that there are a hundred who learn vocal music to one who learns instrumental of any kind. If therefore it should appear, that no gain is made in instrumental music, still the gain must be vastly great in a full view of the subject.25

Law's The Art of Playing the Organ is more significant for its appearance than its content, as it is the first American organ "method". After the five pages of the Introduction, which is mostly commentary, he spends only three pages on charts of symbols with brief explanations, making the entire "method" eight pages in length. (See Example 1.) However, his work was recognized as significant even in his own time. Samuel Worcester, the pastor at the Tabernacle Church in Salem, Massachusetts, gave a significant address on sacred music in 1810 in which he recommended Law's work. Worcester speaks at length on the need to select good hymnody and psalmody and perform it well, concluding with an endorsement of musical societies "since so little encouragement is given in our country to good musical instructors."26 It is interesting to note that in his Essays on Music Law comments on the difference between sacred and secular music and does not limit his definition of sacred music to psalmody27; however, he never publishes or endorses any keyboard music beyond that required to accompany the singing of psalmody.

Many people apparently tried Law's organ method, lured by the promise of learning to play psalmody quickly. However, as Gould suggests, they found it took longer than they had anticipated.28 Although influential in its day, Law's method was never revised or reprinted.

By the end of the first quarter of the nineteenth century, the debates over the suitability of organs in worship had generally ended. A new body of writings appeared: suggestions for the role of the organist and complaints about how the instrument was being used.29 In 1822, Thomas Hastings wrote a notable treatise, Dissertation on Musical Taste, which raises some important considerations in these areas. Hastings concludes that the organ is a useful accompanimental instrument when played skillfully, which apparently was not the case very often. He goes on to make a plea for the proper training of organists by quoting the Bible: he cites the psalmist's charge to "play skilfully [sic]" as well as a passage where the chief of the Levites "instructed in the music because he was skilful.[sic]"30 This treatise is interesting from several aspects. First, it indicates that the focus at this point was still on accompanying rather than solo playing. Second, it shows the progression in acceptance of the organ. In earlier years, it was common practice to quote scripture in defending the use of organs themselves, while this treatise takes this technique a step ahead and applies it to organist education.

Hastings makes two other thought-provoking comments. One is an elusive remark that "printed instructions are readily obtained"31 on the subject of style in instrumental music. Since this comment follows the section discussed above on the necessity of training for organists, it would be interesting to know what sort of "printed instructions" Hastings is addressing.

The other intriguing comment has to do with Hastings' disappointment in the effect achieved by instrumental accompaniments. He suggests that perhaps organists should only perform pieces they can play easily, and then wonders how much their abilities should be "heightened by cultivation."32 Hastings clearly emerges later as a champion of organist education. However, his comment raises the possibility that the lack of native organ instructional materials in the first part of the nineteenth century may have been due at least in part to a lack of interest in having organists develop a more advanced technique unnecessary for accompanimental duties.

The next organ "method" to appear was Instructions in Thorough Base; Being a New and Easy Method for Learning to Play Church Music upon the Piano Forte or Organ, published in 1844 by Artemas Nixon Johnson (1817-1892). Johnson was a well-rounded musician: a European-trained theoretician, music educator, music publisher, and a practicing church musician, principally at the Park Street Church in Boston. Johnson's wide array of instructional materials were based on the principle of "learning by doing."33 In the introduction to Instructions in Thorough Base, Johnson states that "this book is, strictly, an instruction book in the art of playing Church Music."34 Johnson presupposes that the student will be "acquainted with the Elements of Music, . . . and also know at least enough of the Piano Forte, to be able to find the letters readily."35 The book contains forty lessons followed by nine "miscellaneous examples", with explanations of the exercises in the back of the book (in case the book is used without a teacher). Aside from Johnson's own exercises, the music includes exercises by Lowell Mason and German chorales, which Johnson recognizes as "some of the most difficult exercises."36 The lessons train organists to accompany not only psalms and hymns but also anthems, thereby going one step further than Law's method. (See Example 2 for  a lesson and its accompanying instructions).

Johnson's "thorough base" method apparently answered a need which had developed since the tune books of Law's day which often used symbols and solmization syllables.37 All tune books by this time used normal musical notation for the vocal parts, and many added a figured bass accompaniment which was optional. One tune book, however, notes in the introduction that,

Instead of a figured bass, the music has all been carefully arranged for Organ or Piano-Forte, from the conviction that many performers on those instruments have not had the opportunity to perfect themselves sufficiently in the science of music, to play the harmony with facility, even of plain psalmody, from figures.38

Like Law's method, Johnson's approach was claimed to be fast and effective. George Root testifies that he started using this book after only two weeks of organ lessons, and that he was able to begin playing for prayer-meetings immediately.39

By the middle of the 19th century, then, the primary responsibility of a church organist was still to accompany choral and congregational singing. Thus far, however, the materials examined have been "methods" which have addressed specific basic techniques of reading music without exploring any other aspect of how to accompany.40 The several books on sacred music in the United States (principally histories) which appeared around the middle of the century are full of suggestions. For example, Nathaniel Gould (1853) speaks at length of the responsibilities and problems of accompanying the choir or congregation in hymns and psalms; he says that organists are successful in this when "instead of placing the crash of the organ before the voices, and obliging them to fight their way not with but after them, the organ lays a foundation, and sustains the harmony, and even seems to assist them in speaking and giving expression to words and sentiment, altogether making a solid body of harmonious and devotional sound."41 This section emphasizes not only the necessity for the organist to play in such a way technically that his hands stay together and he is with the congregation rather than ahead of them, but also the importance of the interpretation of the hymn text.

Gradually, toward the middle of the nineteenth century, sources finally appeared for the organist which provided instruction in aspects of church music beyond reading notes. The first of these publications was Church Music, consisting of New and Original Anthems, Motets and Chants, for Public Worship (1831), by Charles Zeuner, a well-known organist in Boston and Philadelphia. As its name suggests, this book is a collection of vocal music, but it includes a lengthy and cleverly-written Preface. Although the majority of the text is devoted to vocal music, Zeuner also makes some comments on organs and accompanying rules for organists.  His approach clearly contends that the organ is subservient to the singers. For example, he cautions the organist not to hold out the final notes of a piece longer than the singers do:

On the contrary, it must stop a little before, in proportion as the final notes or chords are longer or shorter, playing, where there are long or final rests or pauses, the bass alone--perhaps an octave lower--in order to give opportunity for a display of the voice.42

Zeuner was a pious Lutheran concerned with establishing a more pure style of church music. One Boston magazine wrote of him in 1840, "he has contributed materially toward elevating our style of church music by his publications."43 It is significant that his instructional comments for organists appear in the Preface to one of his vocal collections and make no mention of any other purpose for organs beyond accompanying, although he does advocate the installation of larger and better organs. Zeuner did publish collections of his own organ voluntaries for service use, although these books contain no Prefaces.

In 1845, Thomas Loud published an important method which details the breadth of his concerns in its lengthy title: The Organ Study: Being an Introduction to the Practice of the Organ; together with a collection of Voluntaries, Preludes and Interludes, original and selected; a Model of a Church Service; Explanations of the Stops and their Combinations; Studies for the Instrument; and Examples of Modulation intended to aid the Extempore Student; accompanied by An Engraving and description of the Mechanical construction of the Organ. Loud describes himself as the "Organist of the St. Stephens Church, and until recently, Organist of St. Andrews Church."44 After providing some basic information on the organ, Loud discusses how to accompany singers before moving into the more technical aspects of his method, reflecting the continuing importance of this topic. He provides specific instruction on stops to be used, emphasizing that "the organ is the accompaniment, not the principal in vocal music."45 His general accompanying guidelines are particularly interesting; he explains how the previous practice of introducing a chant, psalm, or hymn with a "shake" (trill) is now out of style. Instead, organists are urged to " . . . close the prelude or interlude with the final chord, and then lead up, from the bass note, the first chord of the tune (the voices falling in when the chord is full) . . . "46, reversing this process at the end. This concept is exemplified in Loud's "Model Service for the Episcopal Church," which includes voluntaries, chant accompaniments, psalms, hymn tunes, introductions, and interludes, along with some notes on their proper performance. (See Example 3.) Loud's method will be discussed at greater length in the next article in this series.

A final significant book of the mid-nineteenth century in linking the role of the organist to instructional materials is American Church Organ Voluntaries, published originally in 1852 by A. N. Johnson. Johnson wrote some of the compositions in this volume and an introduction on the church music and organs of his time, as well as editing and publishing it. Thus, this anthology is significant both for being the earliest anthology of organ music compiled by a native American, and the earliest published by an American.47 In addition to Johnson's important commentary which touches on a variety of topics related to the church organist, the collection contains opening and closing voluntaries for service use. Johnson was noted for his American bias and rejection of European influences,48 thus making his volume an excellent source for studying the relationship between theory and practice in the role of the American organist. It is also important because it is the first book of American organ repertoire with instructions for the organist, rather than being a vocal collection or accompanimental manual.

Cutler and Johnson address the subject of hymns and accompaniments briefly in their "Remarks". They comment that "the organist should watch carefully the varying sentiment which the different stanzas of the Psalm or Hymn express, as by want of attention in this respect, all efforts on the part of the singers to give an appropriate rendering of the music, will be unavailing."49 Their emphasis, then, is not on the technical aspects of hymn-playing, but rather the interpretive aspects. According to Stephen Pinel, this concern with the texts reflects a very American aspect of this volume, since Europeans of this period were noted for their secular approach to music during the Mass.50 It also implies a spiritual or ministerial facet of the role of the organist in the interpretation and illustrating of texts.

The concern for the integrity of the hymn is carried over into Cutler and Johnson's comments on hymn interludes, which they say should "partake of the general style of the tune to be sung."51 They give specific instructions for the length of interludes (they should be as long as the last line of the hymn), so that the congregation does not lose the rhythmic connection to the rest of the hymn. Although there were no examples in the main body of Cutler and Johnson's American Church Organ Voluntaries, there are some sample interludes by John Zundel in an advertising section in the back of the book, added in the 1856 edition. These interludes are generally 4, 6, or 8 measures long, and most begin with an anacrusis. Several are unusual in that there is a sudden stylistic change in the middle, combined with a change to a solo registration featuring an hautbois or flute melody. One can only presume that these were justified as a transition between verses with different textual meanings.

The admonishing comments by Cutler and Johnson regarding hymn playing were apparently warranted in view of practices which were developing into problems. For example, a worshipper in 1835 described the problems with lengthy and highly-embellished hymn introductions by saying that "I have often seen persons, who were in the habit of singing in church, shut up their hymn book, supposing some new production was to be performed, though in fact they were perfectly familiar with the air."52 He goes on to add that by the time the congregation figured out the tune and started singing, it was time for the interlude, which was equally showy and often included a modulation, so that the congregation did not want to start singing again and interrupt the organist.53 Episcopalian writings from Hopkinson's letter of 1786 to "Suggestions for Congregational Singing" included in The Tune-Book of 1858 include allusions to this problem,54 and Thomas Loud's "Model Service for the Episcopal Church" of 1845 offered examples of short, proper interludes. Interlude abuse was apparently very widespread.

Oddly enough, one of the best instructional sources for playing interludes is not a method or collection for the organist but another mid-century book, Our Church Music: A Book for Pastors and People by Richard Storrs Willis (1819-1900). Willis describes specific ways in which interludes were abused in his chapter on "Mutilation of Hymns". He goes on to make specific suggestions for playing formal interludes, relating to the use of keys, cadences, etc.55 Although his language is not extremely technical, it clearly uses more music theory terms than the "pastors and people" would generally understand.

The basic issue underlying the complaints about hymn interludes and introductions was the tendency to showmanship on the part of the organist and its appropriateness in church. This problem will be discussed in more detail in Part  Two, when the rise of solo playing brings this issue to the forefront.

The earliest history of organists in the United States, then, is principally that of accompanist to congregations and choirs, with some opportunities for personal expression in the hymn interludes. This was due not only to the slow approval of organs, but also the instruments themselves, which were generally quite limited in their dimensions. The format of the earliest materials allowed them to be self-taught, reflecting the interest in developing a number of organists as quickly and easily as possible. Despite this intent, most organ training was apparently done in private lessons, using either the few available American materials or imported methods. The increasing popularity of organ playing, however, is illustrated by the documentation that some private religious schools (at least Episcopalian ones) were beginning to include organ instruction as part of their curriculum.56 As the interest in organ playing grew and the basic skill level of organists improved, there was also a rising concern in educating organists to recognize their role in the church as interpreters of the texts they were accompanying, as reflected in new educational materials which were textual rather than (or in addition to) technical. In the transition which occurred near the middle of the century from basic note-reading approaches to more sophisticated interpretations of the organist's role, a new epoch in the position of the organist and in church music in general was beginning.            

Notes

                  1.              Nathaniel D. Gould, Church Music in America (Boston: A. N. Johnson, 1853), p. 168.

                  2.              Robert Stevenson, Protestant Church Music in America (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1966), p. 49.

                  3.              William Harrison Barnes and Edward B. Gammons, Two Centuries of American Organ Building (Melville, New York: Belwin Mills, 1970), p. 9.

                  4.              Barbara Owen, The Organ in New England: An Account of its Use and Manufacture to the End of the Nineteenth Century (Raleigh: The Sunbury Press, 1979), p. 4.

                  5.              Gould, p. 174.

                  6.              Orpha Ochse, The History of the Organ in the United States (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1975), p. 107.

                  7.              Gould, p. 206.

                  8.              Louis C. Elson, The History of American Music (New York: MacMillan Company, 1915), p. 25.

                  9.              Byron Adams Wolverton, Keyboard Music and Musicians in the Colonies and United States of America before 1830 (Ann Arbor, Michigan: University Microfilms Inc., 1967), p. 436.

                  10.           Henry C. Lahee, The Organ and Its Masters (Boston: L. C. Page & Company, 1927), p. 245.

                  11.           Barnes, p. 8.

                  12.           Ralph T. Daniel, The Anthem in New England before 1800 (Evanston IL: Northwestern University Press, 1966), p. 30.

                  13.           Thomas Mace, Musick's Monument (London: T. Ratcliffe and N. Thompson, 1676), pp. 9-12.

                  14.           John Newte, "Preface" to Henry Dodwell, Treatise concerning the lawfulness of instrumental musick in holy offices . . . (London: printed for W. Hawes, Henry Clements, and W. Burton, 1700), p. 2.

                  15.           Ochse, p. 45.

                  16.           George Hood, A History of Music in New England: with Biographical Sketches of Reformers and Psalmists (Boston: Wilkins, Carter and Company, 1846), p. 57.

                  17.           Owen, p. 5.

                  18.           Hood, p. 154- .

                  19.           Frank Metcalf, compiler, American Psalmody, or Titles of Books, Containing Tunes Printed in America from 1721 to 1820 (New York: Charles F. Heartman, 1917), introduction.

                  20.           Daniel Bayley, A New and Compleat Introduction to the Grounds and Rules of Musick, in two books (Boston: Thomas Johnston, 1766), p. 24.

                  21.           Thomas Walter, Grounds and Rules of Music Explained . . .  (Boston: J. Franklin, 1721), p. 1.

                  22.           Francis Hopkinson, "A Letter to the Rev. Doctor White, Rector of Christ Church and St. Peter's on the Conduct of a Church Organ" (1786) in Ochse, p. 427 (Appendix).

                  23.           Jane Rasmussen, Musical Taste as a Religious Question in Nineteenth-Century America (Lewiston, New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1986), "Notes", Chapter One, #47, p. 466.

                  24.           Russel N. Squire, Church Music (St. Louis, MO: The Bethany Press, 1962), p. 220.

                  25.           Andrew Law, The Art of Playing the Organ and Piano Forte, or Characters Adapted to Instruments (Philadelphia: Jane Aitken, 1809), p. 5.

                  26.           Samuel Worcester, An Address on Sacred Musick, delivered before the Middlesex Musical Society and the Handel Society of Darmouth College . . . (Boston: Manning & Loring, 1811), p. 21.

                  27.           Andrew Law, Essays on Music (Philadelphia: "printed for the author", 1814), p. 20.

                  28.           Gould, p. 180.

                  29.           It is interesting to note that this is about the same time that Francis Hopkinson's letter, dealing with these issues, was printed for public use.

                  30.           Thomas Hastings, Dissertation on Musical Taste; or General Principles of Taste Applied to the Art of Music (Albany: Websters and Skinners, 1822), p. 80.

                  31.           Hastings, p. 81.

                  32.           Hastings, p. 62.

                  33.           Jacklin Bolton Stopp, "A. N. Johnson" in The New Grove Dictionary of American Music, Volume Two (E-K), ed. H. Wiley Hitchcock and Stanley Sadie (London: MacMillan Press Limited, 1986), p. 576.

                  34.           A. N. Johnson, Instructions in Thorough Base; being a New and Easy Method for Learning to Play Church Music upon the Piano Forte or Organ (Boston: George P. Reed, 1844), p. iii.

                  35.           A. N. Johnson, p. 86.

                  36.           A. N. Johnson, p. iii.

                  37.           Some tune books in the late 1700's also used figured bass; see for example, Jonathan Benjamin, Harmonia Coelestis: A Collection of Church Music (Northampton: Andrew Wright, 1799).

                  38.           Joseph Muenscher, "The Church Choir; A Collection of Sacred Music, Comprising a Great Variety of Psalm and Hymn Tunes, Anthems, and Chants Arranged for the Organ or Piano-Forte" (Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co., 1839) cited by Jane Rasmussen, Musical Taste as a Religious Question in Nineteenth-Century America (Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1986), p. 206-207.

                  39.           George F. Root, The Story of a Musical Life (Cincinnati: The John Church Company, 1891), p. 10-11.

                  40.           Francis Hopkinson touches on this subject. However, his letter was probably unknown outside of Episcopal churches, and there is no way of determining how widely it was read even within the Episcopal church.

                  41.           Gould, p. 181.

                  42.           Charles Zeuner, Church Music, c

by William Kuhlman

William Kuhlman is Professor of Organ at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa where he has taught since 1969. He is a graduate of Saint Olaf College and received his advanced degree from Syracuse University. His major instructors have included David N. Johnson, Arthur Poister, Grete Krogh and Harald Vogel. He has previously written an article for The Diapason entitled "Andrew Carnegie and the Organ," and an article in the July 2002 issue of The American Organist reviewing "Sacred Music 2002" at the University of Iowa. He recently recorded a new compact disc of organ and brass music for Telarc with the Empire Brass at Luther College. He performs five days a week for services of the campus community on the 3-manual, 41-rank Robert Sipe organ at the 1500-seat Center for Faith and Life. Kuhlman is represented by The Concert Artist Cooperative.

 

Small liberal arts college teaching is an area rich in challenges and creative possibilities. Having taught in the field for the past 34 years has prompted me to reflect on its rich opportunities as well as its perils for those desirous of a walk down similar paths. Few students in graduate studies working toward career paths in college or university teaching can anticipate the realities awaiting them upon successfully joining this guild. In the paragraphs that follow I will share a few of my experiences in hopes that the information will benefit those seeking to pursue an academic career.

 

Henry Adams once said, "A teacher affects eternity; one can never tell where one's influence stops." At this very moment, graduate students throughout the many fine programs around the country are honing their skills as performers and becoming the best players they possibly can. Their influence on organ students of the future will undoubtedly manifest itself in many positive ways. When the young Arthur Poister was teaching in Sioux City, Iowa, he had no idea that he would later be quoted over and over again and regaled as one of the great seers of organ pedagogy in the 20th century. Likewise with Russell Saunders when he was a young man teaching at Drake University: he never realized how far-reaching his influence would be as a scholar, a student of the instrument and its literature, and as an extraordinary "teacher of teachers." For those unfamiliar with these two names, Arthur Poister at Syracuse University and Russell Saunders at Drake (and later, the Eastman School of Music) were surely considered two of the giants of organ teaching in America from the 1950s through most of the 80s. They would undoubtedly agree with the quote attributed to the English music critic/musicologist Ernest Newman, who said: "A good teacher is slowly discovered. The bad teacher is quickly found out!" For those aspiring to this wonderful profession, the rewards are many, the diversity of experiences enjoyable and a great pleasure at times. The positives far outweigh the negatives.

But a few caveats would well-serve those aspiring to academia. Organ teaching and playing in America has undoubtedly reached a level unparalleled in history. The instruments we play and teach on are of a caliber unrivaled anywhere in the world. Top-flight preparation through superb teaching continues to produce competition winners and wonderful young artists. One wonders, however, whether playing skills alone will suffice to prepare graduates from our excellent conservatories, colleges and universities for the few teaching positions that become available each year. Perhaps a few musings from personal experience will be helpful.

When I was in graduate school studying at Syracuse with Arthur Poister, my interest in theory, history, pedagogy, church music and service playing was secondary to the pursuit of my performance skills. I had assimilated a reasonably good feel for liturgical organ playing growing up in the atmosphere of St. John Lutheran Church and Grace Lutheran Church in the western Chicago suburbs, where an excellent brand of church music was being espoused by the likes of Gerhardt Becker, Carl Schalk, Paul Bouman, Paul Bunjes, Richard Hillert and other giants of Lutheran church music. By the time I left high school I had played a fair number of church services (which I enjoyed immensely) and adored playing hymns both on G. Donald Harrison's Aeolian-Skinner at church as well as on our Model 45 Baldwin at home. When my parents bought our Baldwin on South Wabash Avenue in Chicago, the demonstrator was none other than the inimitble Reginald Foort, the staff organist at the BBC in London prior to the war. I was privileged to have lessons from him for about two years while I was studying with our local Lutheran church musicians Becker and Bouman. Reggie taught me technique from the "Stainer Method Book." Later on we worked on the E-Flat Trio Sonata of Bach and assorted chestnuts from the orchestral literature such as his transcription of Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld and some glorious renditions of tunes such as "Night and Day" and "Dancing on the Ceiling."

All of these eclectic experiences helped to kindle my passion for playing the organ and served me well in college and university and my first organ-ist/choirmaster position at St. Michael's Episcopal Church in the idyllic town of Cazenovia, New York. However, like my colleagues in the graduate program, most of my energy was expended in preparing memorized organ recitals and studying a narrow range of literature. Our primary goals were to hone our skills to become the best teachers and players that we could become. In this respect, "Mr. Poister" was the paragon of the "model teacher/performer."

When I decided to track into academe in the late 1960s, the opportunities were plentiful. Many good jobs were open in both church music and college work. However, when I was hired into my first full-time position at Jamestown College in North Dakota in 1967, I quickly experienced a "wake-up call" when I found myself on committees, teaching and advising non-major students and thus having to know and understand the college catalogue and all its nuances. I was required to play for college celebrations and chapels, conduct the touring a cappella choir, teach piano and harpsichord, music history, church music, a January term course on "The Fine Arts in Chicago" and assorted other duties I had never dreamed I would be undertaking. Once over the initial shock, I dug in and started shoveling.

Teaching in a small town at a small liberal arts college with students that were either beginners or low intermediate players presented a new set of challenges. As the only professionally trained organist in the region, I felt like I was stranded on a wind-blown oasis at times. My two departmental colleagues were a band director and a flower-child composer/theorist with whom I maintained splendid relationships, but whose direct interest in my own field was, to put it mildly, limited. I missed the interchange and compatibility of the Syracuse classmates in Mr. Poister's last studio at the University. I longed to commune once again with wonderful organ colleagues like Wayne Leupold, John Strege, Bill Neill and Larry Smith and to chat endlessly about notes inégale, interpretations of the Reubke Sonata or whatever other subtle nuances of performance practice that may have been subjects for nattering as we met in the halls and coffee shops at the time.

It was fortuitous that when I went to Luther College, Decorah, in 1969 with a few years of college teaching under my organ shoes, I was a little less naive than several years before. I reveled in the opportunities afforded by the rich organ culture that Gerhard Krapf had cultivated in the State of Iowa. I delighted in the collegial relationship which I formed with both Gerhard and his superb colleague Delbert Disselhorst and later on Delores Bruch at the University of Iowa. I found great inspiration in the work that Gerhard and the university organ technician Carroll Hanson had done to introduce great new organs into the state. My work was cut out for me to emulate their model in both teaching and bringing much-needed new instruments to my "quadrant" of Iowa.

The reality of my first years at the new position came as somewhat of a shock to this idealistic young savant, eager to make his mark at his first college job. A number of smaller shocks hit me straight on:

* Luther College conducted non-compulsory daily plus Sunday chapel services. A lot of literature had to be covered in a given week with a dozen voluntaries and hymns to be played, and numerous choral and instrumental accompaniments to be learned.

* I was given about a dozen liberal arts students per semester to advise. A few were music majors, but many were pursuing majors in biology, classics, French and other areas outside my field of expertise.

* I served on a variety of committees--the curriculum committee, (which I also served as chair), social committees (for Christmas parties, faculty retirement fetes and the like) and on planning committees for extra-curricular events such as college anniversaries, celebrations like the Martin Luther 500th anniversary, the Bach celebration in 1985 and three visits by the King and Queen of Norway. There were convocations featuring Vice-President George H.W. Bush, Attorney General Edwin Meese, Crown Prince Harald of Norway, and later on, his son Prince Haakon.

* I had to find concertatos as we planned Homecoming worship services, Baccalaureates, Christmas concerts and other festival services. I discovered that I really needed to do my homework here and ended up writing many of my own. This too was a new experience for me.

* I was required to teach theory and ear training to fill out my load--areas  which I never dreamt I would have to master. In the process I had to become conversant in Sibelius, Finale and various software programs such as MacGamut and C.A.T. I felt like a fish out of water much of the time!

* I found myself attending more required meetings than I thought possible. A typical week: Monday afternoons, Sunday worship planning with campus pastor A; Wednesday mornings, full college faculty once a month, and the Humanities Division every other week; Wednesday afternoon's meetings with Campus Pastor B to choose hymns and plan daily chapel services; Friday mornings three times a month, full music faculty meetings; other days--meetings of ad hoc committees of various kinds. In short, a lot of time that I once thought I would spend in a practice room.

* As an apparent result of having attended another "liberal arts" college as an undergraduate (Saint Olaf), I found myself teaching courses in the general humanities. I learned that there are certain perils resultant from conversations at social occasions with English faculty. Indiscriminately dropping authors' names or titles of recently read books can lead one down yet another dark alley such as becoming the discussion leader in sections of the core program for first year students with topics like "Greek Mythology" or "Maoist China"!

Despite having resisted and often eschewed past parental advice, I find myself having saved a few chestnuts of my own to pass on to the next generation of prospective small college pedagogues:

Music appreciation. Sometime your organ load may be too small and you'll be asked to teach this or a similar introductory course populated by Physical Education or Science majors wishing to fulfill their fine arts requirement. Even though this is not your specialty, you will be asked to be a good scout and to pitch in. Know your Grieg Concerto and Peter and the Wolf and you will have a jump-start! Ear training and sight singing are other favorite courses which department chairs like to pass around to fill applied teacher's loads, the general assumption being that these are courses that anyone can teach!

Politics. You will want to get your own agenda across, but you will want to do so in such a way that you keep your fellow colleagues' diverse needs in mind as well, and find ways of working within your department without alienating your co-workers. You may for example want to initiate an organ project, which I have had the opportunity to do on four different occasions at our college. It will be very important for you to diplomatically nurture this idea with your colleagues without forgetting that they too may have needs important to them. The eternal problem is how to strike a balance and be a good department member at the same time as having your agenda realized at some point in time.

The draft. I was fortunate not to be drafted into the armed services back in the 60s. But in the 70s, I found myself drafted in my college job into other similarly rigorous duties by befriending one of our theater directors and finding myself joyfully conducting orchestras for musicals like Kurt Weill's Three Penny Opera and playing one of the two piano parts for a production of The Fantasticks.

Developing an audience for organ music. I did not immediately find the same receptive and interested audience for organ music we experienced at graduate school. You will undoubtedly have to build an audience for organ music in the community. The organ journals have had exhaustive articles on this subject over the years and so this turf does not need to be re-seeded. The surest way to kill an uncultivated audience would be to play a dry, academic recital right off the bat, or to have a guest who does so. Be sensitive to the tradition and level of musical sophistication or lack thereof.

New instruments. You may have the wonderful opportunity to procure a pipe organ sometime in your career. A whole host of creative ideas about who the best builder might be for the task, about how to raise funds, and about how to engender enthusiasm and excitement for the project will have to be thought through. Back in the 70s, long before Pipedreams was so much a part of our lives, I hosted a half-hour program each week on our local radio station called "The King of Instruments." I scripted and narrated the program myself, and would play organ recordings from the station's library and reel-to-reel tapes from my own performances and that of my friends and colleagues. This was one of several techniques I thought would engender some interest in attaining new organs at our college. It worked!

Hosting recitalists. You will have to get to know the ins and outs of "presenting." This means finding appropriate recitalists either from your pool of acquaintances or from the management rosters. It can also involve seeking funding through various sources, selling tickets, promoting the recital through your church or college newsletter, radio, TV, posters, church bulletins, newspapers and so forth. How much or how little hosting needs to be done? Donor dinners, AGO and student guild chapter sponsorship are all avenues worth pursuing.

*

In order to achieve promotion and tenure commensurate with your degrees and years in service, several things are necessary. You can read all about this in a college's faculty handbook, but here is the Cliff Notes summary:

Practice time. Many times in schools of music and colleges with strong programs such as ours with 50 faculty and staff in our department, recital and performance work will suffice instead of research. However with a full teaching load, practice time is often precious to find and the first thing to go. I set aside "untouchable" hours from 7:30 until our chapel service begins at 10:00 am and work on recital, church, chapel and accompaniment music during that period. One would be wise to set aside a part of your day in your life as church musician or academic, and make this time sacrosanct. No calls, no interruptions, no make-up lessons!

Contributions to the department. You will be asked to be on calendar committees, library acquisition committees, building committees, departmental publication committees, ensemble committees and a host of other arcane bodies within your department, which set policy, curriculum and other functions of the program. You must do this willingly and cheerfully if you ever expect to receive the requisite glowing evaluations from the colleagues who will review your work. The hiring and review process now as compared to 30 years ago is thoroughly analytical, precise, regulated and organized. Many of us opine that we probably never would have risen through the ranks to full professor if the current rubric had applied when we were climbing the "tenure ladder."

Contributions to the college and the community. A young faculty member with aspirations toward tenure gladly, willingly and eagerly serves on various strange "task forces" and ad hoc committees in order to be noticed by deans and department heads. Directing and/or playing at local churches or synagogues, becoming a participant on school or hospital boards and service organizations are small but integral factors in the tenure mix.

Writing skills. We think so often in music that writing is secondary or maybe not at all important relative to what we will do in a college job. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am constantly writing: grant proposals, proposals to committees, drafts of ideas, reports, minutes of meetings, articles for newsletters and magazines, and a variety of diverse documents such as letters of recommendation for graduate study, letters supportive of Fulbright and Rhodes scholarship applicants and the like. I also am constantly being asked to write evaluations for colleagues in the department who are up for promotion and tenure, or are applying for other jobs. Being able to write clearly is not a luxury but a prerequisite of the job.

Speaking skills. You are frequently required in an academic position to speak at faculty meetings, to introduce speakers, to give talks to local organizations, to do workshops of various kinds, to be a consultant for organ projects, to speak at AGO and church body conventions, conferences and workshops. Speaking confidently with a modicum of good grammar and syntax, and presenting oneself in a professional manner is paramount.

Corollary Issues

As College Organist at a relatively small (2800 students) but important college in the region, I am often called upon to give advice to churches on finding organists, and in replacing or restoring a variety of organs out and about. Be ready to willingly help out, or have access to people who might be able to give the needed advice. You will find yourself the "caretaker" of organ and perhaps church music in your area and will be called upon to be the local resource for a variety of strange and interesting requests, often hilarious, sometimes bizarre. A few examples:

a. "Where can I find replacement tubes for my Hammond B-3?"

b. "How much is my Estey reed organ worth? Would you appraise it for me?"

c. "Where can I find an organ arrangement of The Battle Hymn of the Republic?"

d. "Would you play a recital on our 1920 Hinners for our church's 100th anniversary celebration? You might want to tune it first!"

e. "Would you be willing to go through my late Aunt Minnie's organ music and tell me what it's worth for tax purposes?"

f. "Would your music library like my late great-uncle's collection of revival hymnbooks?"

g. "Could the College use a pair of Leslie speakers?"

h. And, of course, the perennial questions: "Do you have any students that could play for services this year at West Paint Creek Presbyterian Church in rural What Cheer? Our council just raised the fee to $20.00 per service."

If you are teaching as I do, in a small college atmosphere, you will soon find that a five-day workweek is impossible for the most part. You may spend part of your weekend supporting colleagues' lectures and performances, attending your students' junior and senior organ recitals or those of students and instrumentalists enrolled in your classes. When your own students present recitals there will of course be the attendant hours of extra coaching and rehearsal. Many of your "free" Saturdays may be usurped by admission department requests to meet with prospective students who can only visit the campus over a weekend. You will want to become better known in the community by helping your colleagues in the area with recital and workshop programming. Become active in the local AGO and regional denominational associations. Attend lectures by colleagues in other departments and show interest in areas beyond your own program and agenda.

Recruiting. You may be surprised to discover that dozens of talented organ students are not automatically going to come knocking at your studio door. You have to find clever ways to encourage the good ones to enter your studio. Scholarship support from your administration is critical. Sponsoring workshops in organ and church music, summer organ camps and keyboard festivals are all part of the game we have to play to get good students to come to an expensive school and study organ as one of their academic subjects. We may fall into a few great students with little or no effort but most frequently will have to work hard to convince them of the benefits of our program versus that of our competitors. Read your magazines. Be an activist in the perpetual campaign to interest young people in our instrument. Find out how to sponsor a Pipe Organs and Pizza event for young keyboardists, invite youngsters in church choir programs up to the organ loft, invite school groups to come in and have a fun, entertaining 30-45 minutes hearing the sounds and experiencing the wonders of the pipe organ. Our future as teachers and performers depends on energetic new ideas and creative approaches.

Studio teaching. I was absolutely certain when I started my teaching career that all of the pieces I had labored on during my college and university studies would be within easy access of most if not all of the students whom I would teach. Sowerby, Reubke, Liszt, Mendelssohn, Bach, Buxtehude, Bruhns, Lübeck, Böhm, Sweelinck, Scheidt, Hindemith, Langlais, Messiaen--no problem! And then, of course, there'd be the ever-reliable Gleason and later on Stauffer and Ritchie, Soderlund, and Davis, for those few beginners who needed a little retrofitting or tune-up. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Many, if not most of the students enrolled for lessons at small liberal arts colleges are either taking lessons for the first time, or for only a year or two. Many will be non-music majors. In counting my student load of 16 lessons in the spring semester, four were education majors, four were applied music majors, and the rest from other departments with history, nursing and/or undetermined majors. From amongst these diverse groups, many will end up giving junior and senior recitals at the point at which they are prepared and interested in doing so. Others take lessons simply because they want to be prepared to play a competent church service. The dilemma in a liberal arts program is whether to accept only high-potential students with great keyboard ability or to accept most or all of those who enroll and teach to their level. On the one hand, it's more interesting and professionally fulfilling to accept only a few "superstars." On the other hand, one's teaching load may, as a result, be filled with duties outside of your expertise or general interest.

Be prepared to teach entry-level pieces such as Dupré's 79 Chorales, Keller's 80 Chorale Preludes, Pachelbel and Walther manualiter, easy trios by Krebs, Hudson, using method books such as Roger Davis or the new series that Wayne Leupold has developed. Accept every promising pre-college age student you can lay your hands on. This is our future as organ pedagogues if our instrument is to survive. Isn't it ironic that in the present day, we're experiencing a level of organ building in the country unprecedented in history, while in many quarters, organ music in many churches is being relegated to the dust heap in favor of the praise band!

Coda

Bring to your job applications and your vitae as diverse and well-rounded a background as you can manage within your graduate programs. Deans and department chairs that are looking at dossiers are rarely looking for a candidate qualified to teach only to their specialty.

The diversity of experiences which include living life in a bucolic college town with diverse cultural and physical attributes, interesting colleagues and the rich opportunities available, all serve to  make a career in college teaching well worth considering. Perils and pitfalls exist, but in the end, the rewards are abundant.

This article was developed from a lecture presented at the University of Iowa on November 11, 2001.

by Earl Holt

Earl Holt is a graduate of Elon College, the University of Michigan, and Arizona State University, where he recently completed the D.M.A. degree in organ performance with Robert Clark. Dr. Holt served on the music faculty of San Jacinto College North in Houston from 1982-90, and is currently a full-time Visiting Assistant Professor of Music Theory at ASU. His article, "Interpretive Suggestions for Four American Organ Works," appeared in the August and September 1995 issues of The Diapason; and his article, "Interpretive Suggestions for Modern Swedish Organ Works," appeared in the January and February 1996 issues of The Diapason.

Subjugated by the Soviet Union after World War II, Czechoslovakia became a socialist state in 1948; Czech arts organizations were systematically dismantled by the Communist government. Music was subject to the Doctrine of Socialist Realism, whose tenets dictated socialist content and readily comprehensible language, to achieve the ideological goals of the government. Late Romantic and folk styles were encouraged; Western avant-garde styles were deemed morally decadent. In addition, the atheistic stance of the Czech government made artistic association with the Church a liability, as summarized in The New Grove: "Along with the musical societies and their network, the function of church music in the life of society was destroyed."4

Despite the restrictions, Czech composers sought renewed international contact in the early 1960s, and were allowed to attend international music festivals. Active organ composers of this period were Petr Eben, Karel Janecek, Miloslav Kabelác, Otmar Mácha, Karel Reiner, Klement Slavicky, and Milos Sokola. The Czech government, reflecting the Soviet Union's relaxation in the enforcement of the socialist realism doctrine, began to encourage the composition of contemporary organ music by providing state subsidies, encouraging composition and interpretation competitions, and allowing international publication and dissemination of the most successful works. Nevertheless, the official atheism of the communist party government undoubtedly influenced the composition of secular organ compositions by its continuing authority to prevent publication of liturgical works. Historian Marilou Kratzenstein writes:

With the exception of Eben, none of these [composers] has written extensively for the organ, but each has written at least one or two very fine works. All of them, excepting Kabelác, have relied heavily on folk melodies and rhythms and have worked in a style which is an outgrowth of post-Romanticism. In general, Czech organ compositions are meant for concert, not liturgical, use. They are often virtuoso pieces, often symphonic, and can best be realized on an organ which is able to accommodate Romantic literature.5

Since the end of the Soviet Union's domination of eastern Europe in the late 1980s, and the Soviet Union's subsequent disintegration in 1991, Czechoslovakia has separated into two autonomous regions, the Czech Republic and Slovakia, in 1993.

An important outlet for international distribution of Czech organ works during the last two decades has been Panton's series, Nuove Composizioni per Organo, a six-volume set of contemporary organ works. The pieces included in the set were all prize-winning compositions at the annual Prague Spring International Music Festival.6 Of the four Czech works selected for this article, three are published in the sixth volume of Nuove Composizioni.

 Editors of the fourth, fifth, and sixth volumes stated Panton's editorial policy toward registration data in the respective prefaces. The editor of the fourth volume, Alena Veselá, writes:

In revising this miscellany I first of all respected the registration data of the composers. As far as an author has not written his composition with a completely real conception of sound, I thought it right to leave inventive freedom to the interpreter and not to add registration suggestions of my own.7

Otomar Kvech, the composer of Prazské Panorama, one of the selected works in this article, served as editor of the fifth volume of Nuove Composizioni. In its preface, he writes:

All these compositions require a modern instrument with rich possibilities of registration. Their scores contain only such registration data that have been mentioned in the authors' manuscripts. An interpreter may use all his creative freedom in application [of] the rich scale of colour possibilities of [the] organ.8

In volume six, editor Václav Rabas comments further on registration, and the desired instrument:

Having revised the particular works I therefore respected composers' datas [sic] of manuals and registration that however are mostly general. For this reason it is above all the task of every interpreter to register and interpret the work in a creative way, according to his possibilities and possibilities of particular instrument. As far as an indication of manuals is mentioned, the organ under discussion is a three-manual instrument, the type most common today.

I. manual--great organ

II. manual--choir organ

III. manual--swell organ9

This article surveys four selected secular organ works by modern Czech composers and compiles relevant performance information in an attempt to make the compositions more comprehensible and accessible to recitalists, teachers, and students.

Fantasia by Jozka Matej

Background

Jozka Matej, born in Brusperk, Moravia in 1922, had his first music studies with Frantisek Míta Hradil in Ostrava at the Masaryk Institute of Music and Singing. He then studied organ with J.B. Krajs and composition with Emil Hlobil and Zdenek Hula at the Prague Conservatory from 1942 to 1947. Further composition study was with Jaroslav Rídky at the Prague Academy of Musical Arts from 1947 to 1951. He taught courses in music for drama students at the academy from 1952 to 1954, but retired from teaching to become a full-time composer.10

Matej has composed two symphonies, orchestral and chamber works, a fully orchestrated cantata, and widely known educational music for winds. His composition is heavily influenced by Moravian folk music of his native Lach region. Liner notes to a recording of the Concerto for Trumpet, French Horn, and Trombone describe Matej as "experienced in all types of music, with a firm, definitely established niche in Czech music."11

Besides the work selected for this article, Fantasia (Fantasy), no other organ works of Matej were found. The premiere of Fantasia took place at the Prague Spring International Music Festival in 1984.12

Structure

Mid-twentieth-century Czech composers often used the names of traditional polyphonic forms, including the chaconne, toccata, and fantasy, as carriages for their works.13 Such titles usually bear only a superficial relation to formal structure, however, and might have been arbitrarily selected for their ability to earn government imprimaturs as secular works appropriate for publication.

Fantasia exhibits a modern harmonic idiom, as other arbitrarily titled modern Czech works do. The work is comprised of five continuous sections, delineated by rhythm, tempo, and dynamic changes. The main rhythmic figure in sections 1, 3, and 5 contains continuous, four-voice triplets. Sections 2 and 4 have simple beats, primarily, although a few supertriplets occur in section 4. Passages at the ends of sections 2 and 4 are related motivically, but the two sections begin differently: section 2 begins contrapuntally, with two rhythmically imitative voices, whereas section 4 (religioso) begins as a four-voice, atonal chorale.

Matej uses simple meter, despite the extended sections of triplets that could be more easily scored in compound meter. Sections 1, 3, and 5 are in 2/2 meter, except for a few measures of 3/2 and 4/2 in sections 1 and 5. Sections 2 and 4 are in 4/4 meter, except for two measures of 5/4 in section 4.

Tempo changes also occur between sections. Sections 1, 3, and 5 are fast, and sections 2 and 4 are comparatively slower. Within each section, however, the tempo does vary slightly. Sharp dynamic changes occur between sections, except between sections 2 and 3, where the change is from pp to p. Table 1 is a structural outline of the piece.

Registration

The score is marked for a three-manual organ, although a two-manual instrument is adequate. The manual compass is Eb to f''', and the pedal compass is C# to c', so the work is accessible on virtually any instrument. Expressive divisions are not required. The frequent dynamic changes can be made by an adjustable combination action or with the help of a console assistant. The numerous stop changes make it difficult for the performer to handle registration and maintain continuity at the same time.

The score names only one specific stop--a 16' Pedal Bombarde in m. 35. All other registration changes are indicated by numerous dynamic markings that range from ppp to fff, a practice that permits the performer considerable freedom in stop selection. Table 2 presents registration suggestions based on the dynamic markings indicated for each manual in the score.

Interpretation

The most difficult interpretive challenge in Fantasia is to accommodate the constant rhythmic change that creates the molto drammatico character of the work. Changes in tempo, for example, occur thirty-eight times. Most of the changes in tempo within each of the five main sections are small, subito adjustments of four to six beats per minute. Larger tempo changes occur between the five main sections. A note at the beginning of the score addresses tempo: "Resulting tempo will be dependent on possibilities of particular instruments. Only the quick passages can be slowed down, however by not more than 4 speeds of [the] metronome."14 Exactly what constitutes a "quick passage" is unclear, but the fastest tempos occur in the first, third, and fifth sections of the work (mm. 1-47, 94-143, and 177-235).

Besides changing tempo frequently, Matej uses arrows of varying lengths to indicate gradual accelerandos ( ----------> ) and gradual ritardandos ( <---------- ). While the use of such arrows is not unique, they occur ubiquitously, effectively eliminating the perception of a regular pulse in many passages. Besides the ritardando arrows, allargando and ritardando markings occur at the ends of many phrases. Although distorted by the various compositional techniques presented above, the rhythmic pulse should reflect the composer's choice of meter: the half note gets the beat in sections 1, 3, and 5, and the quarter note gets the beat in sections 2 and 4, as shown in Table 1.

Matej precisely marks articulation, too. Slurs indicate phrasing, and accents (agogic and dynamic) are used liberally. Staccato articulation is not marked anywhere in the score, although some passages must be played detached, either for acoustic clarity or because of fingering in dense textures. Traditional Italian terms are used at tempo changes and might also suggest the character of the articulation--sostenuto, amabile, giocoso, agitato, pesante, leggierissimo, and marcato, for example.

Optional cuts, or vide passages, occur at mm. 42, 62-93, and 218. The cuts at mm. 42 and 218 are, in each case, a single chord held for four beats. Although the long chords serve as cadences, their omission creates a heightened dramatic effect, and those two cuts are recommended. The long optional cut in mm. 62-93, however, would reduce the second section of the work from forty-six to only fourteen measures, leaving it significantly shorter than, and thus out of balance with, the other four sections. Such a large cut is recommended only if time considerations are paramount.

No commercial recordings of Fantasia were found. The performance time is nine minutes and thirty seconds, if no optional cuts are made.

Improvviso by Jirí Dvorácek

Background

Jirí Dvorácek was born in 1928 in Vamberk, eastern Bohemia. He studied organ at the Prague Conservatory from 1943 to 1947. After graduation, and two years as an organist and music teacher, he began studies in composition with Jaroslav Rídky and Václav Dobiás at the Prague Academy of Musical Arts from 1949 to 1953. In 1953 Dvorácek was appointed as a professor of composition at the academy, and he became head of the composition department in 1979. The Czech government named him an Artist of Merit in 1983. He also served as president of the Union of Czech Composers and Concert Artists from 1987 to 1989.15

Dvorácek has composed a large number of works for orchestra, chamber ensemble, piano, and voice. His vocal works often have patriotic or political themes. For example, Male Choirs, sung often at Czech public concerts, was composed in 1955 for the tenth-anniversary celebration of the World War II liberation of Czechoslovakia. Another work, From the Diary of a Prisoner (1960) for mixed choir, is set to Vietnamese poems by Ho Chi Minh.16 The chamber music and instrumental music form the largest body of Dvorácek's works. Although his compositions require modern performance techniques, most are tonally based; even his dodecaphonic compositions are constructed to avoid atonality.17

Besides the work selected for this article, Improvviso (1982), Dvorácek has composed a Sonata for Organ (1979), performed at the Prague Spring International Music Festival in 1980, and Violin and Organ Play (1984). The premiere of Improvviso took place in the Prague Rudolfinum by organist Milan Slechta on March 19, 1983.18

Structure

Improvviso (Improvisation), as the title suggests, is a free work. Dvorácek writes: "By the title Improvviso I wanted to express spontaneity of the music development and non-complicated image in accordance with the thematic material."19 The work, which lacks an identifiable formal structure, has four continuous sections that are delineated by tempo changes. Structural unity is primarily created by rhythm--the use of a constant metronomic pulse of eighty beats per minute--and by repetition of specific compositional techniques (gradually piling up notes into clusters, or the extensive use of trio texture, for example).

Compound meter occurs throughout the work--all 6/8, except for four measures of 9/8 (mm. 145 and 187-89). The basic pulse of eighty beats per minute applies to the dotted quarter note in sections 1 and 3, and to the dotted half note in sections 2 and 4. The tempo therefore doubles in sections 2 and 4, but nevertheless retains the basic pulse. There is no discernible tonal center in the work. Large chords are often based on intervals of a perfect fourth, perfect fifth, or tritone. Table 3 is a structural outline of the work.

Registration

Improvviso is written for a three-manual instrument, labeled I--Great, II--Choir, and III--Swell, although it can be played on two manuals, if quick stop changes are made. The manual compass for the work is C to bb.''' The pitches a''' and bb.''' occur only in the right-hand part in mm. 269-72, however. Those four measures could be played an octave lower, allowing the work to be performed on a 56-key instrument. The pedal compass is C to g', requiring a 32-note pedal clavier. The highest pedal note, g', only occurs in m. 315, but there does not appear to be an acceptable way to alter the pedal part to eliminate the g'.

No expression pedal markings occur in the score. The performer or a console assistant can make all stop changes; an assistant would be especially helpful if no adjustable combination action is available. The score lists no specific stops or traditional ensemble registrations. Stop changes are primarily indicated by numerous dynamic markings that range from pp to ff. Occasionally, though, an organ stop pitch designation is given. Table 4 presents registration suggestions based on organ stop pitch designations and dynamic markings in the score.

Interpretation

The chief interpretive challenge for the performer of Improvviso is to maintain rhythmic pulse and dramatic intensity throughout. During passages with long note-values, constant internal counting of eighth notes will be necessary (mm. 269-81, for example).

Sections 2 and 4 are technically challenging because of trills in the manuals, and occasional pedal trills. All trills in the work begin on the principal note, as indicated by a footnote in the score.20 The pedal solo in mm. 289-318 is marked tutti, but 32' stops should be omitted because of the fast tempo. The long trill at the end of the pedal solo (mm. 319-35) must be played by the right foot, because of the double-pedal part. If the performer cannot sustain the trill, however, the ossia--which has manual and pedal parts, but does not require the extended pedal trill--may be substituted. Pedal trills elsewhere must be played by a single foot, because the pedal part is so active and the feet are so far apart.

Not only do the bar lines in Improvviso serve as an organizational convenience but they also imply regular rhythmic accents on strong beats. Phrasing is meticulously indicated by slurs. Staccato dots (pp. 6, 8, 12, and 15) and agogic accents (pp. 5, 7, and 8) indicate articulation. The term pesante occurs in mm. 73, 288, and 385; besides emphasis on each note, Dvorácek also uses the term to imply a ritardando, since the following measures are marked a tempo.

Dynamic changes occur often and are carefully marked. The final dynamic marking in the work occurs in m. 282; because this ff dynamic lasts for 119 measures, however, the registration must not be overbearing.

Dvorácek confirms that there are no notation errors in the Panton score. He also writes that Panton produced a live recording of the first performance (stereo 8111 0357).21 The work has a performance time of six minutes.

 

 

Notes

                        1.                  Marilou Kratzenstein, Survey of Organ Literature and Editions (Ames, Iowa: Iowa State University Press, 1980), 164.

                        2.                  Corliss R. Arnold, Organ Literature: A Comprehensive Survey, 2d ed., vol. 1 (Metuchen: Scarecrow Press, 1984), 251.

                        3.                  Felix Aprahamian, brochure notes for Concert Pieces for Organ, Hyperion Records, CDA66265, 2.

                        4.                  Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (London: Macmillan and Co., 1980), s.v. "Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, §IX, 1: Russian SFSR, Russian art music, (iv) The political background to the Soviet period," by Rita McAllister; Ibid., s.v. "Czechoslovakia, §I, 1: Art Music, Bohemia and Moravia, (v) Since 1945," by Oldrich Pukl.

                        5.                  Kratzenstein, 165.

                        6.                  Václav Rabas, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6, trans. Jana Kuhnová (Prague: Panton, 1983), preface.

                        7.                  Alena Veselá, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 4, trans. Jan Machac (Prague: Panton, 1974), preface, 7.

                        8.                  Otomar Kvech, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 5, trans. Jana Hanusová (Prague: Panton, 1979), preface, 6.

                        9.                  Rabas, preface.

                        10.              Sadie, s.v. "Matej, Josef;" Cenek Gardavsky, ed., Contemporary Czechoslovak Composers (Prague: Panton, 1965), s.v. "Matej, Josef," by Cenek Gardavsky; Nicolas Slonimsky, ed., Baker's Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, 8th ed. (New York: Schirmer Books, 1992), s.v. "Matej, Josef.

                        11.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Matej, Josef;" Milan Kuna, liner notes to Josef Matoj: Concerto for Trumpet, French Horn, and Trombone, Panton 110456-F.

                        12.              Rabas, preface.

                        13.              Arnold, vol. 1, 251.

                        14.              Josef Matej, Fantasia, ed. Václav Rabas, in Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6 (Prague: Panton, 1983), 2.

                        15.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí;" Slonimsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        16.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        17.              Sadie, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        18.              Jirí Dvorácek, Improvviso, ed. Václav Rabas, in Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6 (Prague: Panton, 1983); Id., Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.

                        19.              Dvorácek, Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.

                        20.              Dvorácek, Improvviso, 4.

                        21.              Dvorácek, Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.