Ernest M. Skinner in The Diapason

Neal Campbell

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

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

Introduction

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

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

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

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

Harrison replied to Schreiner:

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

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

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

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

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

Historical context

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

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

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

Dear Don:

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

Cordially, and with great admiration,

Ernest M. Skinner⁶

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

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

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

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

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

Attributes and examples of the emerging American Classic style

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison replied a couple weeks later:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plans emerge for a new organ for the Salt Lake Tabernacle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The completed Tabernacle organ

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

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

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

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

Another to the workers back in the factory:

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

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

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

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

A summary to Henry Willis:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Organs containing G. Donald Harrison’s signature plates

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison makes this interesting comment about the Methuen organ:

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued.

Notes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

26. Owen, 47.

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

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

David Baskeyfield

David Baskeyfield studied at Oxford University and the Eastman School of Music (studio of David Higgs). The recipient of several first prizes at national and international organ competitions (all with audience prize), and one of few organists based in North America to improvise regularly in recital, he enjoys an international performance career. His latest CD, on the Acis label, Dupré: The American Experience, was recorded on the French-influenced 1932 Aeolian-Skinner organ at Saint Mary the Virgin, Times Square, New York City, and includes the United States premier recording of an unpublished orchestral transcription by Dupré of Dukas’ The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. He is represented in North America by Karen McFarlane Artists, Inc. Connect on Facebook (David Baskeyfield, organist), www.youtube/c/dbaskeyfield, or www.davidbaskeyfield.com.

The Sibley Music Library of the Eastman School of Music, Rochester, New York, houses the collected papers of Rolande Falcinelli, professor of organ at the Paris Conservatoire from 1955 to 1986. A finding aid is available through Sibley’s website (www.esm.rochester.edu/sibley/files/Rolande-Falcinelli-Archive.pdf). Alongside manuscripts, correspondence, and writings by Falcinelli, the collection includes a number of writings by Marcel Dupré, whose association with Falcinelli as mentor and subsequently colleague is well known.

The article below, in Dupré’s predictably meticulous handwriting, is apparently unpublished. It is undated, though from its content can be placed in the late 1950s: Ernest M. Skinner was still alive (he died in 1960), and Dupré appears to make reference to the American innovation of the Doctor of Musical Arts degree, launched in 1953. Further, the American Classic approach to organ reform was sufficiently advanced for Dupré to comment unfavorably on its extremes. Dupré’s first American tour was in 1921, and his observations thus span almost forty years.

The content would admittedly be of less interest if it were not written by a figure such as Dupré. There is very little groundbreaking information here, it is not all entirely accurate—some of his assessments are suspect to the point of spurious—and interest lies principally in these idiosyncratic impressions coming from Dupré himself. Some assertions hint at an agenda: admiration for aspects of American instruments, in particular their action, while unable to refrain from some nationalistic bias in his narrative, and taking a swipe at (likely) Ernest White and possibly even his old friend G. Donald Harrison; and perhaps a grudging desire for France’s pedagogical system and professional organ scene to learn from that of the Americans. At the same time he is sufficiently gushing to be sure to keep his American impresarios happy, presumably the likelihood of further lucrative touring not an insignificant consideration. Overall, he plays two contrasting roles, both of seasoned touring virtuoso and wide-eyed newcomer to a land of plenty. I have annotated many of his claims where it seemed helpful; as to various other assertions, the reader will have no trouble drawing her or his own conclusions. Dupré’s prose is rather dry, and I have attempted to convey this in my translation.

I am grateful to Jonathan Ambrosino for advice and clarification during the preparation of my annotations, and to David Peter Coppen, head of Sibley Special Collections, for his kind assistance with access to the archive.

Editor’s note: subheads have been added to Dupré’s text.

Marcel Dupré: L’Orgue aux Etats-Unis¹

North America presents the organist with a treasure trove of experiences and opportunity. There is much to be learned there about different kinds of organ installation, the instrument’s evolution, and trends in its construction; and through these, the very place of the organ within this society.

The visitor is immediately struck by the number of churches scattered about the land. In New York City alone, I count some 1,030 parishes. On arriving in any town, large or small, the visitor is greeted by a main street replete with a prodigious number of towers and steeples. This is down to private endowment, in the form of memorials: when a member of a wealthy family dies, his parents will wish to perpetuate his memory through a public gift—a hospital, library, school, university building or church. In each of these, you will find the finest materials, care, and good taste in the furnishings and, regularly, a beautiful organ.

These churches have capacities varying between five hundred and a thousand seats and, most often, their acoustic is excellent. [sic!]

A number of cities have cathedrals of large dimensions. Their style is usually English Gothic. In Catholic cathedrals the organ is in a rear gallery, as in France. In the Protestant churches, it is situated close to the choir, as in England. These instruments can have as many as a hundred or a hundred and fifty stops.

But it is not only in the churches that fine instruments may be found. There is not one city without numerous concert halls, of various sizes according to location, and always with an organ.

Orchestral concerts are given in halls rarely exceeding eighteen hundred seats. I suppose that this number is the limit if the audience is to hear a concerto soloist properly, or to hear the orchestra with any kind of clarity. Of course, these halls are not just for orchestras—they are generally excellent for chamber music and solo recitals.

The municipal auditorium in each large town is much bigger: four to five thousand seats. These are geared toward oratorios and special concerts by touring virtuosos. As they generally house an enormous organ, they invite famous organists to perform there.

Finally, the “Convention Hall” reaches gigantic proportions, twelve- to eighteen-thousand seats. They are really only used for political rallies or large social events. The acoustic is, as you might expect, terrible, and completely unsuitable for music. Nevertheless, they all have giant organs, which are often excellent.²

The organ in the American education system

But what is perhaps most striking is what we find in universities and colleges: concert halls everywhere, in proportion to the size of the student body. Size is also what determines nomenclature: a college has fewer than three thousand students; a university has more than three thousand and may reach ten thousand. There is nothing more extraordinary than to see these huge rooms filled entirely by young men and young women. They make the most enthusiastic and spirited audiences and also the most attentive. Seven or eight minutes before the concert, these immense halls begin to fill. After the last encore, they empty even faster.

Over the course of their four years of higher education, from age eighteen to twenty-two, these students have the opportunity to hear—and not just once—all the pianists, violinists, singers, chamber musicians, organists, conductors, orchestras, choirs touring the United States. These concerts are paid for out of their tuition fees. They are a part of the education that they receive. It can be seen that this is building a truly elite audience for the future.

High schools (fourteen to eighteen years) also have concert halls and organs. This young audience, likewise attentive and effusive, is quite capable of listening to a serious concert. These are generally given at one o’clock in the afternoon. The concerts are never more than an hour in length.

Finally, numerous private homes have luxurious music rooms whose organs sometimes reach a hundred stops. Their rich owners engage touring artists and invite their friends to come listen to them.³

In a nutshell, there is no place in America that is not equipped to offer a performer a location and instrument with an audience of all ages, always interested and gracious.

And something we can only dream of is the accomplishments and the influence of the “Guild of Organists,” a national union of American organists of more than 6,000 members.⁴ To become a member requires sitting a two-part examination.⁵ Each year a convention takes place in one town or another, bringing together the thousands of members. This gives young organists a platform and allows them to make contacts. And within the regional chapters, the members, rather than bitterly defending their own professional interests, discuss questions of organ construction, and recently published organ and choral music, devoting their efforts to developing local interest in the organ. They are very successful in this endeavor.

Young organists get a great deal of help. I could mention one college that has thirty-five [sic]⁶ little practice organs.

This state of affairs did not happen overnight. It is due to two factors:

1. The existence of a “Music Doctorate,” something unknown in France. In the USA, quite apart from the “Doctor Honoris Causa,” a composer can receive a doctorate for an opera, an oratorio or even a symphony.⁷ As I see it, we [French] are a long way from this kind of accreditation for music and the arts.

2. More than eighty years of enterprise and progress in organbuilding. France actually plays a part in this story, as I will explain:

American and French organbuilding differences

The electro-magnet, which made possible electric key action, was invented in 1860⁸ by Albert Peschard, organist of the Abbaye aux Hommes in Caen, and a physicist. He built a small house organ to test this (Bouches du Rhône), which was unfortunately destroyed. Two French builders, Debierre and Merklin, built electric action organs. Meanwhile, the invention made it over the Atlantic and, over some forty years, American builders struggled with failed attempts and every possible mishap. Little by little electric action was made reliable. Not ceasing to experiment, these builders improved key and stop action, developed their specifications for flexibility, and made their instruments more and more comfortable.

It was the builders Huntching [sic], Steere, Ernest Skinner (who is still alive today), Kimball, and Austin who worked hardest at this early stage.⁹

In Canada, the two brothers Clavers [sic]¹⁰ and Samuel Casavant, French Canadians from Montreal and personal friends of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, worked ceaselessly over almost half a century, with magnificent results.

We are forced to admit that the electric organ, though having been invented in Caen in 1860, but developed and established across the Atlantic, and copied slavishly elsewhere, only eventually returned to France, its birthplace, in 1924.¹¹

American builders did not limit themselves to addressing mechanical problems. They strove to create stops of new timbres. No firm was short of the necessary workshops, laboratories, and teams of specialist engineers.¹²

Naturally, time would tell which of these ideas would be viable and useful, and which would be rejected. Though it cannot quite be said that organbuilding over there is completely standardized, however logical that conclusion would be, a great deal of standardization is nevertheless applied. In spite of this, it is clear that competition between progressive builders sometimes led to extremes, and certain tendencies grew into real infatuations, which can be summarized below.

I would not mention here the so-called “theatre organ,” which can be considered to have disappeared completely with the development of cinema with recorded sound, in 1929, except that we too often forget that this type of instrument actually came about more than 15 years prior to the invention of moving pictures. In effect it was conceived by the English organbuilder Hope-Jones for the University of Edinburgh, around 1885.¹³ It was Wurlitzer, of Cincinnati,¹⁴ that picked up the idea and used it unaltered in the first movie theatres.

The first influence was that of high-pressure stops, from England. There, they built Tubas and Diapasons on up to a meter of wind,¹⁵ whereas many of Cavaillé-Coll’s cathedral organs do not go beyond 10 centimeters of pressure. English organists use these stops for a specific purpose: they are made only to solo out the melody of a hymn sung by the whole assembly. They can support and guide thousands of voices, but an experienced organist would never play chords on the stop; the reverberation would be explosive, blinding.¹⁶

One curious endeavor was that by Haskell, of the Estey firm,¹⁷ who managed to imitate the sound of reed stops with flue pipes. He wished to avoid frequent reed tuning. Up close, the illusion is perfect, though disappears in large rooms at a greater distance from the instrument.

Then came the fads. This was, first of all, string stops, mostly in instruments in private homes. They were, naturally, accompanied by celesting ranks (imitating vibrato). They displaced almost all the other families of tone color. Builders even tried to make mixtures out of very narrow pipes. The sound of those things was particularly acidic. There was also the profusion of various reed stops (oboes, clarinets, etc.), which took the place of foundation stops, making all but special effects impossible.

Finally, after the proper reintroduction of classical mixture stops, which happened around 1923,¹⁸ the trend shifted little by little to the almost complete exclusion of foundation stops. I can cite almost unbelievable examples of instruments of more than 90 stops with only six 8′ foundation stops.¹⁹ You can judge the aggressiveness of these organs yourself. I find them like drinking bowlfuls of vinegar, and you may quote me on that.

Blended styles and large instruments

But this country is so big, the opportunities so great, and the different schools of thought so numerous that everything ends up circulating in an unlimited expansion of ideas. There is room for these different instruments to coexist and last peacefully, for the most part.

Most organbuilders are still guided by common sense. And they build countless instruments of rich and beautiful palettes of sound, perfectly adapted to their location. A list of names, even abridged, is impossible here. I shall simply mention:

1. The cities richest in fine organs: New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Boston, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Denver, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Columbus.

2. The best endowed universities: Yale, Princeton, Columbia, Harvard, Chicago, Minneapolis, Los Angeles.

I would also mention, in Canada: Montreal, Quebec, Toronto, Winnipeg, Vancouver.

The giant organs in America intrigue French organists. The questions are often the same: “Are all these stops really necessary?” “Can they all really be different?” My answer is that the massed effect and depth of sound produced by these instruments is astonishing. Then, on playing them, you realize that every stop does have its own characteristic effect. Each family of stops on each keyboard presents a gradation of intensity and volume, which allows an almost infinite subtlety in combining stops. Think of a great box of pastels, where each color contributes its own shade and hue to the whole spectrum.

Among these immense instruments, the strangest, and also the biggest in the world, is the Wanamaker of Philadelphia. It has 451 stops, around 32,000 pipes.²⁰ There is no borrowing or duplexing, even on the pedals. It has six manuals, but actually consists of eleven enclosed divisions that can be assigned by stopkeys to whichever manual you wish. It has 48 general pistons, adjustable at will; having registered a whole recital in advance, the touch of a thumb on one of the buttons under the manuals will bring on or take off stops instantly to give the prepared combination.

It seems that the era of the building of these giants is over. They remain, nevertheless, as witnesses to a period where material possibilities seemed limitless. Today we can confess that, though interesting, they are, happily, not necessary to art.

America is a land of surprises, and you will walk from discovery to discovery, all of them reflecting the diversity of thought and opinion. The European stands astonished before this rampant and incessant activity, this prodigious amount of production, which at first glance just seems effortless. Whoever goes there and has the fortune to be initiated into the organ world in its various forms, can only long for such potential, such will, and such drive in his own country.

Translation © David Baskeyfield, 2019

Notes

1. Roland Falcinelli Archive, Sibley Music Library, Eastman School of Music, Rochester, New York, Box 33/1.

2. Data on original seating capacity are hard to come by and modern building and fire codes render current occupancy irrelevant to making a judgment on Dupré’s figures. For example, Boardwalk Hall now lists a maximum seating capacity of 14,770, a substantially smaller number than its original 41,000.

3. Currently living in Rochester, I am duty bound to note George Eastman’s Aeolian
organ of 132 ranks at its completion; the Eastman House’s collection of rolls includes a number recorded by Dupré at the Aeolian Hall studios, New York City, and from correspondence archived at the Eastman House we can see that Dupré played for George Eastman at least twice, in December 1923 and 1924.

4. The Story of the American Guild of Organists, by Guild founder Samuel A. Baldwin, published in 1946—the AGO’s 50th anniversary year—describes membership as “well above 6,000.” That figure in itself, though, does not really help much in pinning down a precise date of Dupré’s article.

5. This is not accurate; examination has only ever been required for certification [Baldwin, 1946].

6. In mentioning such an obviously inflated number, Dupré may have hoped to put pressure on the Paris Conservatoire or the American Conservatory at Fontainebleau. His interest in the distinctly American concept of the practice organ (unknown to European schools at that time) is neatly illustrated by a pencil sketch of the plan of the Eastman School organ practice rooms with a note of each room’s instrument, also in the Falcinelli Archive.

7. This seems likely to be a reference specifically to the DMA, the academic study of music at degree-conferring institutions being long established in Europe. Such figures as Mendelssohn, Liszt, and Brahms had been named honorary Doctors of Music, the title “Dr. Brahms” being frequently used pejoratively by his contemporaries to belittle him as a stolid, academic composer. The DMA was developed principally by Howard Hanson (dean of the Eastman School of Music and himself the recipient of an honorary doctorate in 1925). The accreditation body, the National Association of Schools of Music, approved the degree in 1952, it was offered in 1953, and the first degree was conferred in 1954.

8. At the Paris Exposition of 1855, Stein and Son, manufacturers of reed organs, exhibited an organ operated by electromagnets applied directly to the pallets. Sufficient current could not be generated to operate the larger pallets reliably. In 1861 Peschard worked with Charles Barker on applying electromagnets to Barker’s pneumatic motors; Peschard’s electro-pneumatic system was patented in 1864. It was famously used in the organ for St. Augustin, completed 1866, but proved unreliable, principally owing to the strong current required for magnets operating on the motors directly. This tended to magnetize the electromagnets permanently, causing ciphers. The large wet-pile batteries required to generate such strong current were costly and required frequent replacement, and there was a danger of splashing mercury from the contacts during staccato playing. In 1898 Cavaillé-Coll rebuilt the instrument with Barker machines [Fenner Douglass, Cavaillé-Coll and the French Romantic Tradition, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1999].

9. Dupré’s characterization is misleading. It was Skinner, working at the time for Hutchings, who produced the first electric action (1893) bearing that company’s name, prior to founding his own company [Ambrosino, A History of the Skinner Company]. Dupré also omits the contribution of Robert Hope-Jones, who was associated in America with Austin (1903–1904) and Skinner (1905–1906). Skinner had first met Hope-Jones in England in 1898. Later in life professing dislike of Hope-Jones’s instruments, he nevertheless must have been impressed by their action: “I believe you were the first to recognize the importance of a low voltage of electric action, and that the world owes you its thanks for the round wire contact and inverted magnet.”

10. The builder’s Christian name is Claver.

11. Dupré is being coy. No instrument of milestone status was completed or dedicated in 1924; 1924 was the date of the infamous installation of the electric blower at Notre Dame, but “electric organ” clearly refers to key action. The year is almost certainly a reference to two events.

In 1924, Auguste Convers assumed directorship of what had been the Cavaillé-Coll company, though the firm had yet to produce a new organ. The same year, E. M. Skinner visited Paris for the second time (the first was in 1898 when Dupré would have been twelve years old) and Dupré might just be taking the rare liberty of a rhetorical twist to conflate electric playing action with the person of Skinner. Dupré spoke extremely highly of Skinner’s instruments; his admiration of their action and playing aids is well documented. Arthur Poister, the legendary pedagogue and one of Dupré’s first American students, recalled that “had it not been for [Dupré’s] experience with American organs with their easier manual and pedal actions, he could not have written some of the music he wrote. His entire concept of tempos and playability was changed by his first American experience.” In Dupré’s own words, “mechanical improvements on American organs are far in advance of European . . . I believe that American inventiveness and ingenuity will within the next few years bring about advances as yet unheard of.” Mentioning specifically the year of Skinner’s personal visit might suggest a hint of proprietorial pride: Michael Murray [Marcel Dupré, The Work of a Master Organist. Boston: Northeastern Music Press, 1985, p. 132] writes that Dupré had gone so far as to convey to him in a personal conversation that, during the mid 1920s, he had “helped Skinner introduce electricity” to organs in Paris. This is an extraordinary claim and not without smugness. Skinner recounted his 1924 trip in Stop, Open and Reed, his company’s house publication, volume 2 (1924). Of Dupré, he writes, “M. Marcel Dupré is a vitally alive musical personality. His interest in the ancient organs is great but he is equally interested in the modern organ. He does not glorify the past to the disparagement of the present. Our American Orchestral Color has received the entire approval and indorsement [sic] of M. Marcel Dupré. He leaves no room for doubt in his admiration for it. His use of it will make a further contribution to organ literature unless I am very much mistaken.”

Skinner found the Cavaillé-Coll factory “absolutely destitute” of modern machinery. “Everything done by hand. No electric or tubular actions . . . There is much prejudice in France against doing anything new.” Elsewhere, “The French Organ is a work of art and a great one, tho [sic] according to our present day standards very crude mechanically . . . The inconvenience of the French console is inconceivable.”

At the time of Skinner’s trip, Convers was new in his position, having only recently succeeded Charles Mutin. Skinner liked Convers and considered him a good man to bring the company out of the dark ages. In the event, the electric action instruments produced by Manufacture d’orgues Cavaillé-Coll, Mutin, A. Convers et Cie. proved unreliable and the company was bankrupt by 1928. In noting the year 1924, Dupré is probably simply taking credit for introducing Skinner to Convers at the factory, Skinner presumably being encouraging of Convers’s novel path. In any case, Skinner himself takes no credit for any substantive involvement with electric action in French instruments. Given the tone of Stop, Open and Reed, had this been so, he certainly would have.

12. This translation may be drier than Dupré intended to convey. His term here is ingénieurs spécialisés. The noun ingénieur translates directly as engineer, but the association of the root with the quality of inventiveness might be borne in mind: the verb ingénier means to strive; the noun ingéniosité means ingenenuity.

13. This is misleading. Hope-Jones’s earliest work was the 1887 rebuilding, with electric
action, of the organ at the church of Saint John, Birkenhead, where he was organist and choirmaster. In 1897 he completed a total rebuild of the 1875 Hill organ in McEwan Hall at the University of Edinburgh: though unquestionably a glimpse of things to come and indeed decked out with such novelties as Tibia Clausa, Diapason Phonon, Kinura, and Diaphone—high pressure, unblending stops of extreme scale that would later find their proper place in the Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra—it could no more properly be characterized as a theatre organ than the Worcester Cathedral rebuild of the previous year.

14. The Rudolph Wurlitzer Company started in Cincinnati in 1853 but relocated to North Tonawanda, New York, in 1908.

15. Dupré’s characterization is not quite right and more than a little hyperbolic. Although Hill got the ball rolling as early as 1840 at Birmingham Town Hall with his celebrated Grand Ophicleide on 15′′, high-pressure reed voicing was developed by American builders considerably beyond that of the English. A metre is 39′′ in Imperial units; Harrison and Harrison tubas were typically voiced on 12′′ to 15′′. At Salisbury (1877), Father Willis’s Tuba was on 18′′; a generation later, Harrison and Harrison’s at Ely (1908) were still on [only] 20′′. Liverpool Cathedral (1912–1926) and Westminster Cathedral (1920–1932), both by Willis III, with whom Dupré and Skinner were associated, do have Tubas on 30′′ (and Liverpool has a Tuba Magna on 50′′), but they are the exception, and by that point Willis III and Skinner were long acquaintances. We can be grateful that Hope-Jones’s proposal at Worcester to mount a Tuba over the Canons’ stalls on 100′′ was not carried out.

16. A bad demonstration by an enthusiastic incumbent?

17. Both William Haskell and his father Charles worked for the Roosevelt firm. When his father established his own firm, C. S. Haskell, William left Roosevelt to work with his father; he subsequently established William E. Haskell Co. of Philadelphia in 1901. That firm was acquired by Estey, whereupon William became superintendent of the Estey pipe division.

18. This may be a reference to Skinner’s second visit to England in 1924, where he met Henry Willis III. The trip is considered a turning point in Skinner’s tonal philosophy, whereupon he reevaluated the place of quint mixtures in the ensemble and began drastically expanding his chorus work.

19. An extreme example might be Ernest White’s essay at St. George’s Episcopal Church, New York City (Möller, 1958): of 96 ranks, two are unison principal stops.

20. Dupré exaggerates only slightly. Expanded 1911–1917 and 1924–1930, the Wanamaker organ now has 464 ranks, 401 stops, and 28,750 pipes.

Neal Campbell

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

Editor’s note: the first part of this series appeared in the February 2022 issue of The Diapason, pages 12–17.

Introduction

Based on correspondence in Barbara Owen’s and Charles Callahan’s books, we learned in the previous issue that it was Alexander Schreiner who, as the Tabernacle organ was nearing completion, asked G. Donald Harrison to have his name appear on the console in addition to the standard company nameplate. Harrison obliged by providing an ivory plate with a facsimile of his signature along with the opus number and date. In the ensuing years until his death in 1956 Harrison continued the practice of signing some organs built by Aeolian-Skinner with which he was personally involved.

Before identifying and commenting on those signature organs, a list which continues this month, I showed the progression of Harrison’s tonal ideas in the years leading up to the Tabernacle organ, based on his own words in letters to various of his associates and friends contained in Callahan’s books. In particular, GDH related that the organ for the Groton School was a turning point in the development of his tonal theories, and he considered it the smaller companion to the Tabernacle design. Also cited are several examples of both Harrison’s and Schreiner’s assessments of the Tabernacle organ in the years immediately following its completion.

Following the list of signature organs in this issue, I also comment on some organs built prior to the Tabernacle organ containing GDH’s signature plate and, assuming the Tabernacle organ to be the first organ GDH signed, I offer details as to their relative importance in the company trajectory. There follows commentary about significant Aeolian-Skinner organs of the era that do not contain Harrison’s signature, and then some brief commentary on the organs built in the era of Joseph S. Whiteford and the company’s final years.

In enumerating and commenting on the signature organs, the list and details are complete and accurate so far as I know. I have played many of the organs, but not all. I imagine there are signature organs of which I am unaware. For example, since beginning work on this article I learned via a Facebook page devoted to G. Donald Harrison and the American Classic Organ that the organ in the Worcester Art Museum bears a GDH signature plate. There likely are others, and I would be glad to hear from those with knowledge of them, preferably with documentation, and from those with additional commentary to what I provide here. Communications may be sent through the editor. Who knows, there may be an addenda or part 3 in the future!

Opus 1149: New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, Washington, D.C., 1948.

The first organ for this congregation was built by Hutchings, Plaisted, & Co. in 1873 for the original church. This was later rebuilt by John Brown and later still by Ernest M. Skinner & Son of Methuen. In 1948, the church signed a contract with Aeolian-Skinner for additions to the existing instrument, and in 1951 another contract was signed as Opus 1149-A for a rebuilding and re-installation in the present church.²⁹

This organ, now gone, was a very beautiful example of Aeolian-Skinner’s sound, even though it was of modest content and pedigree. My teacher, William Watkins, was the organist of the church at the time each contract was completed, and he and Joseph S. Whiteford did the work together on a very modest budget. Whiteford was a native Washingtonian, and he and Watkins were good friends; this was at about the time Whiteford became Harrison’s assistant at Aeolian-Skinner.

At the time, the church was famous for the preaching ministry of the Reverend Dr. Peter Marshall, who was also the chaplain of the United States Senate. Watkins at that time was a prominent concert organist, and he provided a serious program of organ music at services. The church maintained a choir of 100 singers directed by Charles Dana Beaschler. Watkins told me that he simply asked Harrison to sign the organ when they moved into the new church. At the time Watkins was probably the best-known organist in the country aside from Virgil Fox, his teacher. The organ as it turned out was entirely worthy of the Aeolian-Skinner legacy, but GDH had nothing to do with it personally. He complied with the request solely on the strength of his associations with Whiteford and Watkins. So, if it happened here, it likely happened in other places—an important clue when considering criteria that may have influenced Harrison’s decision to sign an organ.

By the time I knew the organ as a substitute in the early 1970s the signature plate had disappeared, though the screw holes where it had been were clearly visible. When the church eventually obtained a new console and made some additions during the tenure of Wesley Parrott, a replacement signature plate was made and affixed to the new console.

Opus 1150: Annie Merner Chapel of MacMurray College, Jacksonville, Illinois, 1952.

Robert Glasgow taught here before he went to the University of Michigan, and the organ was installed early in his tenure. He praised the organ in his address to the American Classic Organ Symposium in 1988. The college closed in May 2020, and the fate of the organ is still being determined.

Opus 1173: First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas, 1949.

This organ was a rebuild of a 1935 M. P. Möller, and it retained much of the pipework and structure, as well as three complete stops from the previous Henry Pilcher’s Sons organ. Nevertheless, it became one of the company’s most successful and best-known organs.

It was used for examples supporting GDH’s narration in Volume I of King of Instruments, and in Volume II played by Roy Perry, the organist of the church for forty years and one of Aeolian-Skinner’s most successful representatives and finishers. Two tracks were also played by William Watkins on Volume II, although he was identified ignominiously as the “staff organist,” owing to union regulations at the time. Volume X featured Opus 1173 in a complete issue entitled “Music for the Church,” featuring works for choir and organ. The only organ piece on the album was Bruce Simonds’s Prelude on Iam sol recedit igneus played by Roy Perry, who also played all of the choral accompaniments.

The cover photo of the new Trompette-en-Chamade for Opus 1173 was used for the first time on Volume X and continued to be featured in company brochures and other volumes of the King of Instruments series, becoming something of an Aeolian-Skinner icon. The company claimed that the stop was the first such built in America.

Opus 1174: First Baptist Church, Longview, Texas, 1951.

This organ provides an interesting contrast to its slightly older sister organ in Kilgore in that it was a completely new organ designed by Harrison for the new church, has not been altered or added to, and was placed in a strikingly modern, large edifice designed with the organ’s success in mind at the outset. The nave of the church is 92 feet high at the peak of the ceiling, and it seats 1,700 persons. The church’s pastor, the Reverend Dr. W. Morris Ford, was the driving force in both the building of the new church and the organ, and for many years thereafter musical events of significant proportions were included in the church’s program. The leading organists of the day, including Virgil Fox and Catharine Crozier, played there. An article about this organ appeared in the June 1954 issue of The American Organist stating:

Catharine Crozier made tape-recordings during the 1952 Christmas holidays for two L.P. discs [on the Kendall label]; Harold Gleason says Longview beats anything he has heard in Europe.

Opus 150-A: Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, New York City, 1953.

This organ is justly famous and needs little introduction, except to note that it used significant portions of the original instrument, one of Ernest Skinner’s early successes, especially structural components and orchestral stops. The organ has many unique attributes, and its success draws in large part from Harrison’s experience prior to his coming to the United States, when he worked closely with Willis on the organ in Liverpool Cathedral, a building approaching the size of St. John the Divine. For example, letters by GDH tell that in some stops the pipes for the individual notes are doubled, even tripled in the treble ranks, and that for the first time in many years Aeolian-Skinner built and voiced completely new Tuba stops for the organ.

An amusing story from the canon of oral tradition tells of Norman Coke-Jephcott, organist of the cathedral during the planning stages, and GDH visiting after dinner at Coke-Jephcott’s club in the presence of others, when Harrison asked “Cokie” if he had given any thought to what they might name the newly designed special trumpet stop at the west end of the cathedral. Cokie said that he really had not, so Harrison asked him how he planned to use it. Cokie said, “Well . . ., I suppose for state occasions.”

That is how this famous stop, voiced by Oscar Pearson on fifty inches of wind pressure, came to be called the State Trumpet. It was a major departure from the two previous horizontal reeds Aeolian-Skinner built for Opus 1173 and Opus 1208, which were essentially standard Trompette Harmonique designs voiced on moderate pressure, but mounted horizontally.

The cathedral organ is featured on Volume I of the King of Instruments in examples played by Joseph Whiteford to accompany Harrison’s narration. The instrument is again featured on Volume VI in a program played by Alec Wyton, who had recently been appointed organist of the cathedral, and on Volume VIII, played by his predecessor, Norman Coke-Jephcott.

Opus 825-A: St. Paul’s School, Concord, New Hampshire, 1953.

Opus 1196: Covenant Presbyterian Church, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1949.

This was a completely new four-manual organ for the new church building of this flagship congregation of the denomination. Richard Peek was the organist at the time, and he and his wife, Betty, directed the music here for over forty years.

Opus 1200: New England Conservatory, Boston, Massachusetts, 1949.

Originally displayed at the 1950 American Guild of Organists convention in Boston, this experimental organ saw many years of use in a studio at the conservatory. The console has three plates on it, and students recall that in addition to the company nameplate and the GDH signature plate, there was a plate identifying its use at the convention. The organ is now owned privately.

Opus 1201: St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Mount Kisco, New York, 1952.

A new three-manual organ of classic design was installed in casework designed by Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, architect of the church, which contained the former instrument. The organ featured a divided Swell division, such as was first used in one of Ernest White’s studio organs at St. Mary the Virgin in New York City, and later at Christ Church, Bronxville, New York, Opus 1082. The Positiv division is suspended from the ceiling at the entrance to the side chapel, across the chancel from the main organ. Edgar Hilliar, organist of the church from 1948 until 1984, directed much of the design, and he recorded a complete program for Volume IV of the King of Instruments series.

Opus 1208: St. Philip’s Episcopal Church, New York City, 1951.

At the time the organ was installed, St. Philip’s was one of the largest Episcopal churches in the country and was a significant religious and political presence among the many churches in Harlem. The organ was a rebuild of the former 1943 Hillgreen-Lane organ of three manuals, reusing the console. It featured the company’s second Trompette-en-Chamade, which is similar in appearance to the one for Opus 1173 in Kilgore, Texas, except St. Philip’s is at the west end of the church.

Opus 1216: First Methodist Church, Tacoma, Washington, 1953.

Since relocated to First Baptist Church, Seattle, Washington.

Opus 1235: St. John Lutheran Church, Forest Park, Illinois, 1954. 

Photographs of the stopjambs of this organ were used as the cover of company brochures in the 1960s. The Positiv was prepared for at the time and later added by Berghaus Organ Company to a design somewhat different than the original.

Opus 968-B: Bruton Parish Church, Williamsburg, Virginia, 1955.

This was a large, four-manual organ of over 100 ranks with obvious Harrison attributes. The instrument also included an English organ from 1785 built by Samuel Green that had been donated to the church, made playable as a division of the organ. The unenclosed divisions were placed in a shallow gallery surrounding the Green organ over the altar, while the enclosed divisions were in attic chambers, including an Antiphonal division in the tower. The organ was an anachronism in the Colonial-era church, but it was very effective and saw much varied use in recitals several times a week for the many tourists who flocked to Williamsburg. The organ was replaced in 2019 by Dobson Pipe Organ Builders Opus 96.

Opus 1257: Winthrop College, Rock Hill, South Carolina, 1955.

Opus 1265: The Temple, Atlanta, Georgia, 1954.

Emilie Spivey, the organist of The Temple, commissioned Harrison to rebuild the 1931 Henry Pilcher’s Sons organ that had been installed in the new edifice. The new organ retained twenty-two ranks from the Pilcher. Virgil Fox was the consultant.

Opus 1275: Cathedral Church of All Saints, Albany, New York, 1953.

This is a rebuild of a 1904 Austin Organ Company instrument, retaining the console and some of the chests and pipework. There is a signature plate indicating that Harrison was responsible for the Great and Positiv divisions, and another indicating that Whiteford finished the Swell and Choir.

Opus 724-A: St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1956.

Significant structural portions and the three-manual console were retained from the previous organ, but little of the previous pipework was used in this rebuild, which was in the factory simultaneous with Opus 205-A for St. Thomas Church in New York City. Inasmuch as Harrison died while finishing the organ in St. Thomas, this organ may justly be identified as the last organ personally finished by G. Donald Harrison. Designed and installed during the tenure of Thomas Dunn, certain aspects of the unusual design and stop nomenclature have been attributed to him. The original Aeolian-Skinner nameplate and GDH signature plate were stolen, and the present console contains replacements.

Over the years, during the long tenure of Richard Alexander, additions to the organ included a new four-manual console built by Austin and several vintage Skinner stops, which were placed in the large ceiling chamber toward the front of the nave where most of the original Skinner organ had been located. A new Grand Choeur division built by Schoenstein was also added.

Opus 205-A: St. Thomas Church, New York, New York, 1956.

Much has been written about this famous organ, and it has become the fodder of legend, beginning with the fact that G. Donald Harrison died on the evening of June 14, 1956, after spending a day of tonal finishing on the organ as it neared completion, working against the clock to have it ready for the American Guild of Organists national convention a few weeks later. There was a subway strike in New York at the time, and GDH could not get a taxi, so he walked several blocks in extreme heat to the apartment he and his wife maintained on Third Avenue. Upon arriving home he felt poorly, but after dinner he relaxed and felt better. As he was watching Victor Borge on the television, he threw his head back roaring in laughter—and died of a sudden heart attack.

Many alterations were made to the organ over the years beginning in the late 1960s when the organ was barely a decade old. Toward the end of Gerre Hancock’s tenure he retrofitted nameplates on the right stop jamb documenting the provenance of the organ: The Ernest M. Skinner Co., Boston; Aeolian-Skinner; and Gilbert Adams. He also placed a GDH signature plate under the bottom manual near the General Cancel button.

Marcel Dupré made two stereo recordings for the Mercury Living Presence series of LPs in 1958, which assured the organ of a place in the annals of Aeolian-Skinner history. Private recordings of rehearsals and concerts by Marie-Madeleine Duruflé, Alexander Boggs Ryan, and Garnell Copeland made on the organ before the long series of alterations have recently been remastered and made available as CDs, the latter two of which are found on the Aeolian-Skinner Legacy series of recordings obtainable through the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival.

Signature organs prior to Opus 1075

Several organs built prior to the Salt Lake Tabernacle Opus 1075 also have a Harrison signature plate affixed to the console. Assuming that the Tabernacle organ was the first that Harrison signed as Barbara Owen states (see endnote #1), the exact circumstances of the placements of signatures on these pre-existing organs are subjects of further conjecture and add another layer of mystique to a subject that is inherently somewhat esoteric and imprecise.

The trajectory of Harrison’s organs culminating in the Tabernacle organ design has already been traced. That some of these organs were later given Harrison’s signature is entirely logical, as they contain many design precedents found in the Tabernacle organ that led Alexander Schreiner to ask Harrison to sign it in the first place. In that Harrison and Aeolian-Skinner later made alterations to some of these organs, it is likely that GDH himself directed his signature plate to be affixed at that time. In others the provenance is less obvious, and the exact logistics regarding their placement may be details consigned to the ages. I have attempted only to document what I know to have been in place at the time of this writing or at some point in the past. It is not difficult to fabricate these signature plates, and in several instances where the original nameplates have been stolen or broken, replacement replicas have been made available with relative ease.

Nora Williams told the story of someone in the console engraving department who would routinely make keychain fobs out of Harrison signature plates to hand out to workers and friends! So, the mystique continues.

Opus 909-A: All Saints Episcopal Church, Worcester, Massachusetts, 1933, 1940–1949.

The organ was recorded for Volume XI of the King of Instruments series played by Henry Hokans, the organist of the church at the time.

Opus 910-A: Grace Episcopal Cathedral, San Francisco, California, 1933, 1952.

Richard Purvis played a program of his compositions for Volume V of King of Instruments, although he was identified simply as “staff organist.”

Opus 927: Trinity Church on the Green, New Haven, Connecticut, 1935, 1949.

Opus 932-A: Calvary Episcopal Church, Memphis, Tennessee, 1935, 1952.

Harrison’s professional correspondence mentions his traveling to Memphis to work on the organ. Adolf Steuterman was the long-time organist of Calvary Church, a respected musician in that city, and was friendly with GDH.

Opus 936: St. John’s Chapel, Groton School, Groton, Massachusetts, 1935, 1945–1962.

The organ was featured for Volume VII of King of Instruments, played by Marilyn Mason.

Opus 940: Episcopal Church of the Advent, Boston, Massachusetts, 1935, 1964.

Opus 1024: University of Texas at Austin, Recital Hall, Austin, Texas, 1941.

This was a large, four-manual organ for the recital hall in the new music building, containing the usual four manual divisions, plus a Positiv, Bombarde, and floating String organ. A new console was provided in 1965 as Opus 1024-A, which does not contain a Harrison signature plate. The organ has since been installed in a new church building for St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Amarillo, Texas, which has been widely documented on video, and a signature plate is not on it.

However, in a letter to Brock Downward for his dissertation about Harrison, E. William Doty, professor emeritus and long-time organ teacher at the university, wrote that:

After the College of Fine Arts had been in existence for two years, the Board of Regents authorized the construction of a music building plus an organ to go in the recital hall . . . . Its acoustics were designed by C. C. Potwin of Electrical Research Corporation. He was recommended by Paul Boner, UT Professor of Physics, who was one of several consultants on the building and the organ. Ned Gammons of Christ Church, Houston, now at Groton School was another consultant whose ideas on design were incorporated . . . . In my judgement [sic] G. Donald Harrison was the greatest artist tonal designer of the first half of this century and we are very proud that he signed the University of Texas organ because in his judgement it was one of his best.³⁰

So, the mystique continues, but there is no doubt that this organ in its new home is a success and probably far exceeds its effectiveness in its original location according to those who knew it then, including Gerre Hancock who studied on it with Doty when he was a student at the university.

Opus 1036: Worcester Art Museum, Worcester, Massachusetts, 1942.

Conclusions

Beginning with the Groton organ in 1935, which Harrison himself identified as a turning point in his design of the Classic organ, it is a fairly straightforward task to identify further similar designs throughout the 1930s and 1940s leading up to the Tabernacle organ in 1945—and from thence to others in a similar trajectory, which GDH himself then signed, up until his death in 1956. Even so, if one were listening to a variety of the company’s instruments during this period, whether signed or not, there is no foolproof, obvious, definite distinction. Similarly, from a technical standpoint there are no absolute defining attributes or “smoking gun” signals that separate an organ that GDH signed from one he did not. They each bear a family resemblance in sight and sound, and some may be said to be more effective than others for any number of tangible and intangible reasons. It is, however, a given assumption that these signature organs are considered to be the best of the best that the company built.

In addition to tonal and technical attributes, however, there is another intangible aspect to the signature question that, from a purely scientific standpoint, is difficult to precisely define. Given the uniform tonal success of each of the signature organs along GDH’s developing Classic designs, I feel certain that, when all is said and done, Harrison’s reason for signing an organ also represented some very personal, quiet tribute of his own bestowing—some personal affinity GDH had for the way a particular job turned out, occasioned by its design and outcome together with perhaps some pleasant personal association with the incumbent, such as clearly was the case with Opus 1149 in Washington. Or perhaps there was the sense of a successful achievement that involved working with a collaborator on the job that reminded Harrison of his association with Schreiner and the outcome of the Tabernacle organ. There may have been some personal affinity that prompted Harrison to pronounce his own benediction on the job. And Philip Steinhaus’s letter to William Self at the outset of part 1 of this article confirms that the signature organs represent jobs with which Harrison was “deeply and personally involved.”

There certainly are wide varieties of styles to the signature organs, located in places humble and impressive, sizes small and large. Most of them are complete organs of GDH’s sole design that echo his aspirations for the Tabernacle organ, although there are obvious exceptions that contain significant portions of other builders’ work. Some signature organs are rather straightforward manifestations placed in ideal locations, and some are very unusual schemes or are the result of challenging layouts and unusual engineering solutions, such as Opus 1201 in Mount Kisco.

Some scholars and historians have posited that signature organs contain only pipework designed and finished by G. Donald Harrison. However, there are several examples that clearly suggest otherwise, such as the Washington and Kilgore organs cited previously, but also Opus 1265 at the Temple in Atlanta, Opus 1275 for the Cathedral in Albany, Opus 1208 in Harlem, Opus 1134 for Symphony Hall in Boston, and the various rebuilds of original Skinner organs that are indicated by the suffix letter “A” following the original opus number.

It is also very interesting to consider some important Aeolian-Skinner organs that were not signed by Harrison, including two of the company’s most famous: The Mother Church in Boston (Opus 1203 in 1949, the largest single organ produced by the company) and The Riverside Church in New York (Opus 1118, 1947–1955). Each is a very large, beautiful organ, in a prominent church in a major city, containing many singular attributes associated with Harrison and the American Classic Organ movement. Each possesses a sound that is unmistakable as being from Aeolian-Skinner of the era. However, each of these landmark organs was designed under the significant influence of others—in this case Lawrence Phelps and Virgil Fox, respectively. That is, their design inception was just the opposite of Opus 1075 for the Salt Lake Tabernacle where GDH was given a free hand and charged at the outset to build the organ as he saw fit. So it seems likely that GDH may not have been moved to sign organs so closely associated with others, even though they were still built by Aeolian-Skinner.

In neither case, though, can it be said that Harrison or the company in any way denigrated these organs or regarded them with less favor than the signature organs. The organ in The Mother Church was featured twice in the King of Instruments series of recordings (Volumes IX and XIII) and in reissues. GDH was quick to praise the sounds that Virgil Fox got from the Riverside organ when writing to Willis about it. When Harrison died suddenly in 1956, Virgil Fox immediately offered to play for his funeral—though in the end the small service at St. Mary’s Church in Hampton Bays, Long Island, had no music whatsoever.

The large organ formerly in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul in Boston, Massachusetts, was not signed by Harrison, for the presumed same reason, that it was the result of the collaborative design of Ned Gammons of the Groton School and George Faxon, the organist of the church. Yet, the organ contains all of the hallmarks of the American Classic movement—lavishly so in fact, and it was featured in the first two volumes of King of Instruments. There appears to be no obvious hints of pettiness or retribution in Harrison’s decisions regarding jobs that he did not sign.

St. Mark’s Church in Philadelphia is yet another example of a large, prominent organ in a notable urban parish church with the same Harrison tonal attributes as contained in its contemporary sister organs in Advent in Boston and Groton, yet it was not signed by Harrison. We know that Harrison and/or Aeolian-Skinner later made significant alterations at both Advent and Groton, and it is easy to readily assume that GDH, or someone else, added the signature plates at that time. If that be the case, it is ironic that St. Mark’s, which has received no substantive alterations, does not bear Harrison’s signature, while the other two that have been altered do!

Harder to document are instances where there exists a beautiful example of Harrison’s work without the signature, and where it is known that GDH had difficult dealings in some aspect of the job with representatives of the church and/or the incumbent organist. I personally know of a couple of likely candidates for that scenario—but it is hard to substantiate, there is little to be gained by “outing” a church in this way, and in the end it is of little consequence, except that in the process these places are permanently deprived of the intangible benefit of Harrison’s privately bestowed, yet very obvious public stamp of approval for all to see as the years pass by.

For the researcher, and especially for the player, the presence of the Harrison signature plate on the console suggests an invitation to simply consider the organ on another level, to check the organ’s provenance and files, to try to see who was behind a given project, and attempt to discover the lines of continuity between Harrison and the project, further appreciating the music the organ produces in that light. In providing commentary on the signature organs, I have been able to dig deeper in some cases than others, and in no way do I present this monograph as the end of the story on this topic.

Aeolian-Skinner after Harrison

In the years after Harrison’s death, Joseph Whiteford continued the practice of placing his nameplate on many organs, but to my knowledge it was never in the form of his signature. Although I have not researched it carefully, it also appears that a larger percentage of the company’s total output during Whiteford’s tenure as tonal director received his nameplate. Of course, the total number of organs the company built continued to decrease as the 1960s led inexorably to the company’s sad denouement in 1972.

Much has been written, and even more spoken, about Aeolian-Skinner’s demise. Twenty-five years after the company closed, Michael Gariepy, who had been on the company’s technical staff, wrote:

There were four “coffin nails” which sealed the fate of Aeolian-Skinner—

1. The death of G. Donald Harrison;

2. The Southeast Expressway, which split the operation in two;

3. The departure of Joseph Whiteford from the company;

4. The move to Randolph; such were the disruptions caused by relocating the company that it took six months to return to “normal” operational efficiency.³¹

There is no doubt that Harrison’s prestige brought credit and contracts to the company, and his death is generally thought to have been the beginning of its end—and that may be so. But there is every indication, including Dun & Bradstreet reports, that Aeolian-Skinner was never in a favorable financial position following World War II and its attendant inflation. Joseph Whiteford clearly was not the typical career “organ man” that Harrison had been. There is no doubt that many of the old-timers in the company did not resonate to his patrician ways and may have lacked confidence in his leadership. But in the post-Harrison years Joseph Whiteford designed some impressive organs, including those for the symphony orchestras in New York, Philadelphia, Detroit, Milwaukee, and the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City. And under his successor Donald Gillett’s direction, Aeolian-Skinner built the organ in the new Kennedy Center Concert Hall in Washington.

Many “Hail Mary” attempts were made to keep the company afloat in its closing days, and there were valiant attempts to adapt to the changing times and tastes, such as moving to a more economical and efficient factory outside of Boston and introducing tracker-action organs. Roy Perry told me that Martin Wick seriously pursued the idea of purchasing Aeolian-Skinner and moving it to Texas, with Roy as tonal director. Martin said he had no trouble building Chevrolets in one factory and Cadillacs in another! But his board did not go along with the idea. In the end it was all too little, too late.

Having played many organs designed by G. Donald Harrison, Joseph Whiteford, and Donald Gillett over my entire professional career, I feel that many of Aeolian-Skinner’s organs built since 1956 are very beautiful indeed and are landmarks easily on a par with some of those the company built under Harrison. It is prescient to read what Emerson Richards said about Joseph Whiteford when he wrote to Henry Willis shortly after Harrison’s death:

I think that he [Whiteford] has more ability than he is given credit for but he is impatient and for some reason does not inspire confidence—just why I cannot say.³²

In considering Aeolian-Skinner after Harrison’s death, Charles Callahan’s sage advice in the introductory material to his second book is still worthy of consideration:

The pendulum of taste and opinion is constantly in motion. Caught up in the enthusiasms of a particular moment in time, it is all too easy for anyone to belittle others’ achievements. Perhaps Joseph
Whiteford and his work are overdue for a fair assessment.³³

The author gratefully acknowledges the assistance of Charles Callahan, William Czelusniak, Allen Harris, Douglass Hunt, Allen Kinzey, and Larry Trupiano in the preparation of this article.

Notes

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

29. Allen Kinsey and Sand Lawn, comp., E. M. Skinner/Aeolian-Skinner Opus List (Richmond, Virginia: Organ Historical Society, 1997), 152.

30. E. William Doty to Brock W. Downward, December 14, 1974. Downward diss., 97.

31. Michael Gariepy to Charles Callahan, February 9, 1996, Callahan, Aeolian-Skinner Remembered, 372.

32. Emerson Richards to Henry Willis III, July 12, 1956. Callahan, The American Classic Organ, 433.

33. Callahan, Aeolian-Skinner Remembered, xvi.

Bibliography

Alexander, Richard. “A Survey of the Pipe Organs Designed by G. Donald Harrison.” Master’s thesis, Yale University, School of Music, 1970.

Barnes, William Harrison. The Contemporary American Organ. 8th ed. Glen Rock, NJ: J. Fisher & Bro., 1964.

Berry, Ray, Seth Bingham, Charles M. Courboin, Everett Titcomb, Ernest White, William Self, Alec Wyton, George Faxon, Robert Baker. “G. Donald Harrison, 1889–1956: A Tribute to a Great Man.” The American Organist, vol. 39, no. 7 (July 1956): 230–231.

Bethards, Jack. “The Tabernacle Letters: The Story of the Salt Lake Organ in the Words of G. Donald Harrison and Alexander Schreiner.” The Diapason, vol. 81, nos. 6–8 (June 1990: 14–17; July 1990: 8–9; August 1990: 10–11).

______ . “The 1988 Renovation—A Builder’s Perspective.” The American Organist, vol. 22, no. 12 (Dec. 1988): 71–78. [re: the renovation of the Salt Lake Tabernacle organ].

Blanton, Joseph Edwin. The Organ in Church Design. Albany, TX: Venture Press, 1957.

Buhrman, T. Scott. “Arthur Hudson Marks.” The American Organist, vol. 22 (June 1939).

Callahan, Charles. The American Classic Organ: A History in Letters. Richmond, VA: The Organ Historical Society, 1990.

______ . Aeolian-Skinner Remembered: A History in Letters. Minneapolis: Randall Egan, 1996.

Cundick, Robert. “The 1988 Renovation—An Organist’s Perspective.” The American Organist, vol. 22, no. 12 (Dec. 1988): 79–80.

Downward, Brock W. “G. Donald Harrison and the American Classic Organ.” D.M.A. diss., Eastman School of Music, Rochester, NY, 1976.

Fesperman, John. Two Essays on Organ Design. Raleigh, NC: The Sunbury Press, 1975.

Harrison, G. Donald. “Organ,” in Harvard Dictionary of Music. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1944.

______ . “Slider Chests?” The Organ Institute Quarterly, 3 (Summer 1953).

______ , and Emerson L. Richards. “Chorus Reeds, French, English, and American.” The American Organist, vol. 24, nos. 4–7 (April 1941: 107–108; May 1941: 141–143; June 1941: 172–174; July 1941: 203–204).

Kehl, Roy. “The American Classic Symposium in Salt Lake City.” The Diapason, vol. 80, no. 5 (May 1989): 10–11.

King, John Hansen. “The King of Instruments.” The Diapason, vol. 94, no. 5, April 2003.

Kinsey, Allen, and Sand Lawn, comp. E. M. Skinner/Aeolian-Skinner Opus List. Richmond, VA: The Organ Historical Society, 1992, 1997.

Langord, Alan C. “Aeolian-Skinner: A Study in Artistic Leadership.” Bachelor’s thesis, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1959.

Nies-Berger, Édouard. Albert Schweitzer As I Knew Him. Hillsdale, NY: Pendragon Press, 2003.

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

Richards, Emerson L. “Advent Organ in Boston.” The American Organist, vol. 19, no. 9 (September 1936): 304–307.

_______ . “An American Classic Organ Arrives.” The American Organist, vol. 26, no. 5 (May 1943): 104–108.

_______ . “Boston Symphony Hall’s Third Organ.” The American Organist, vol. 33, no. 1 (January 1950): 17–22.

_______ . “Curtis Institute’s New Organ.” The American Organist, vol. 25, no. 1 (January 1942): 10–14.

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

_______ . “100 Years of Organs in the Mormon Tabernacle.” The Diapason, vol. 58, no. 11 (November 1967): 19.

Zeuch, William E. “An Appreciation of the Work of G. Donald Harrison.” The American Organist, vol. 16, no. 9 (September 1933): 438–439.

About The American Organist magazine entries: for most of the twentieth century the official journal of the American Guild of Organists was The Diapason, independently owned, edited, and published in Chicago. Simultaneous with The Diapason was an organists’ journal titled The American Organist, published by T. Scott Buhrman in New York City. These two journals coexisted until 1967 when the AGO established its independent journal, initially titled MUSIC: The AGO/RCCO Magazine reflecting that it was the official journal of the American Guild of Organists and the Royal Canadian College of Organists. After Buhrman died in the 1960s his journal continued briefly, but it soon ceased operations. The AGO soon adopted the title The American Organist for their official magazine, but it is not in any way related to Buhrman’s magazine. In this bibliography the two 1988 entries referring to The American Organist refer to the magazine’s later iteration as the journal of the AGO.

Stephen Schnurr

Stephen Schnurr is editorial director and publisher for The Diapason; director of music for Saint Paul Catholic Church, Valparaiso, Indiana; and adjunct instructor of organ at Valparaiso University.

Editor’s note: the information in this article was delivered as a lecture for the Ernest M. Skinner Sesquicentennial Conference on April 25, 2016, in Evanston, Illinois. The conference was sponsored by the Chicago, North Shore, and Fox Valley Chapters of the American Guild of Organists, the Chicago-Midwest Chapter of the Organ Historical Society, the Music Institute of Chicago, and The Diapason.

Ernest M. Skinner was a busy organbuilder from the time he first organized his own firm in 1901 in South Boston, Massachusetts. Most of the first 100 instruments were built for East Coast clients, though occasionally an organ would make its way further afield. In the Midwest United States, within a few years, Skinner organs would be sent to locations in Ohio, Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Indiana; however, it would take more than a decade before the first contract for a Skinner organ was inked for a destination in Illinois.

By the turn of the twentieth century, Chicago had fully recovered from the devastating fire of October 8–10, 1871. The city hosted the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, centered where one now finds Jackson Park. Everything was new in Chicago, with resplendent churches, large fraternal lodges, educational institutions, and residences that drove a healthy, modern market for acquiring pipe organs of all sizes in the most up-to-date designs.

Breaking into the Chicago organ purchasing market must have become a priority for Skinner, for in 1913 a sudden flurry of four contracts was signed in quick succession in Chicago and Evanston for opuses 207, 208, 210, and 211. This breakthrough for the Skinner firm likely came with the assistance of the young and rising-star organist, Palmer Christian. Born in 1885 in nearby Kankakee, Illinois, Christian studied at Chicago’s American Conservatory of Music with Clarence Dickinson before traveling abroad to study with Karl Straube in Leipzig and Alexandre Guilmant in Paris. Upon his return to the United States in 1911, Palmer became organist of Kenwood Evangelical Church in the fashionable Chicago South Side neighborhood of Kenwood.

Kenwood Evangelical Church, Chicago

The city block bounded by 46th and 47th Streets and Greenwood and Ellis Avenues contains three monumental churches of significant architectural quality, all constructed between 1887 and 1926: the former Saint James United Methodist Church (46th Street and Ellis Avenue), Kenwood United Church of Christ (46th Street and Greenwood Avenue, just across the alleyway from Saint James), and Saint Ambrose Catholic Church (47th Street and Ellis Avenue). When these buildings were erected, Kenwood was a neighborhood of high society, as the likes of John G. Shedd of Marshall Field & Company fame belonged to Kenwood Evangelical Church. The Swift family of the meatpacking industry and the Harris family of banking belonged to Saint James Methodist Episcopal Church.

Kenwood Evangelical Church was organized on November 17, 1885, having grown from a Sunday school formed earlier that year. On November 26, 1887, the cornerstone of the present church was laid. The Romanesque Revival building was designed by William W. Boyington in association with H. B. Wheelock and dedicated November 18, 1888. (Boyington designed many important Chicago landmarks, most of which, like the old Chicago Board of Trade Building, are gone. His 1869 Chicago Water Tower and Pumping Station remain.) The edifice and the lot cost $65,423.92. The church is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. In 1888, Steere & Turner of Massachusetts installed its Opus 263, a two-manual, twenty-three-rank, mechanical-action organ costing $3,250. Portions of the gumwood case and the façade, including pipes from the Great 8′ Open Diapason, were retained to hide the new Skinner organ.

As mentioned above, in 1911 Palmer Christian was appointed organist to Kenwood Church. He soon led efforts to replace the Steere & Turner organ, and he specifically worked to have the contract awarded to the Ernest M. Skinner Company. This was to be the first Skinner contract in Illinois.

A specification was drawn for a three-manual organ in January 1913, and the contract was announced in the March issue of The Diapason. This was to be Opus 207, followed closely by three other Chicago-area contracts: Opus 208, First Church of Christ, Scientist, Evanston; Opus 210, Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago; and Opus 211, Hyde Park Baptist Church, Chicago.

Several changes would be made to the specification by the time the organ was installed the following year. On May 22, Christian wrote authorizing addition of the Great 8′ Philomela, extended from the Pedal 16′ Diapason, for an additional $150. Already, Christian and Skinner were at odds on just when the organ would be finished: 

Regarding the matter of time, I have only this to say, that, inasmuch as our church was the first to get you out here—and, if I must say it, this was entirely due to my “plugging” for you—we most certainly hope that you can make a special effort in our case, if need be, to be ready according to schedule.

On July 14, 1913, the church treasurer, John B. Lord, wrote to Skinner, authorizing several changes to the specification: elimination of the Choir 8′ English Horn and casework; addition of the Choir two-rank 8′ Dulcet; 8′ Posaune, 8′ Salicional, and 4′ Octave borrows from the Swell to the Great; addition of Chimes for $500; and a six-rank Echo division on a fourth manual for $1,800. The church could now claim it was to have a four-manual organ, not three, as another Chicago church had since signed a contract for a four-manual Skinner organ, Fourth Presbyterian Church.

Christian wrote Skinner on December 19, 1913, reminding him that he wanted Swell and Choir Unison Off couplers, five pistons for each manual except Echo (there were no General pistons), Swell to Pedal reversible, and a Choir to Pedal 4′ coupler. The old organ had been removed from the church, and Christian was complaining about the delay in completing the new organ, noting he had lost $100 in wedding fees, as there was no organ to play for the ceremonies. He asked if Skinner would be able to keep a February 1, 1914, completion date, as he wanted his former teacher Clarence Dickinson to play the dedicatory recital soon thereafter when he was in Chicago.

Dickinson did not play the dedicatory recital during this visit. The May 1, 1914, issue of The Diapason notes that Christian himself played the opening recital on April 16. Apparently, Mr. Skinner was present for the program. This was the first Skinner organ to be completed in Illinois, but not for long.

The Great, Swell, Choir, and Pedal divisions are housed behind the old Steere façade above the pulpit and choir loft at the front of the nave. The Echo division and Chimes are in a room located off the second-floor rear balcony. The console sits in the choir loft at the far right. The manual compass is 61 notes (C–C); pedal compass is 32 notes (C–G). (Opus 208 would have a 30-note pedalboard.) The unaltered organ has been unplayable for several decades.

The congregation is now known as Kenwood United Church of Christ. The church has experienced a renewal in numbers over the last several decades, mostly due to the leadership of Reverend Dr. Leroy Sanders.

First Church of Christ, Scientist, Evanston

Evanston’s First Church of Christ, Scientist, was founded in January 1895. The first worship site was probably a residence located on the present property, which was converted for use as a church. This building burned in 1897, and the members of the congregation set about building a new church costing $25,000.

Construction for the present church seating 900 commenced in 1912 and was completed the following year. It is an excellent example of Neo-Classical architecture that has been revered by Christian Scientists everywhere and by the denomination’s founder, Mary Baker Eddy. Mrs. Eddy became interested in this style of architecture while attending the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago. Many of the exhibition buildings reflected this influence, including the Parliament of World Religions. First Church of Christ, Scientist, Chicago, now home to Grant Memorial African Methodist Episcopal Church, was among the first buildings of this type. The architect of First Church, Evanston, Solon Spencer Beman, also served as architect for First, Second, Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Churches of Christ, Scientist, Chicago. He designed the mansion of the W. W. Kimball family on South Prairie Avenue, Chicago, as well as the entire “town” of Pullman on the South Side of Chicago. Beman became a personal friend of Mrs. Eddy, became a Christian Scientist, and served as a consulting architect for construction of the Mother Church Extension in Boston. First Church, Evanston, was Beman’s final commission, as he died the following year at the age of sixty-one. The church reportedly cost $100,000 to build.

The first organ that the congregation owned was apparently a reed organ built by Leonard Peloubet & Co. of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In 1902, Lyon & Healy of Chicago built their Opus 105 (factory number 1357) for the congregation. This two-manual organ had mechanical key and stop action. When the present building was constructed, the Lyon & Healy was retained and installed in the Sunday school room of the lower level. In the 1990s, the then small congregation, unable to retain the organ, turned it over to the Organ Clearing House for eventual sale.

The organ in the new church auditorium, built by the Ernest M. Skinner Company, was completed on June 1, 1914, as Opus 208. The contract was signed in 1913. It is the oldest functioning Skinner organ in the state of Illinois. The Diapason announced the organ in July 1914:

The organ chamber is at the rear of the readers’ platform, and the tone comes into the auditorium through open ornamental lattice work, which conceals the pipes. The console is at the north (right) end of the platform, at the left of the readers.

Within the organ, the Great is centrally located with the Swell behind. The Choir and three Great additions are to the right. Interestingly, the pedal compass is 30 notes (C–F). During construction, the 4′ Octave was added to the Swell division, on its own chest with channel jumpers. Wind pressure was six inches throughout. The late Roy Kehl of Evanston has noted that Opus 208 was nearly identical to Opus 204, installed in Synod Hall of the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine, New York, New York.

At a later date, three ranks were added to the Great. Additional tilting tablets above the Swell manual were added for these stops, which were not controlled by the combination action. This work is believed to have been carried out by La Marche of Chicago.

The congregation was served by several excellent organists. Rossetter Gleason Cole was appointed organist in 1909 and served through 1929. Cole was born in 1866. After study at the University of Michigan and in Berlin, he returned to the United States, settling in the Chicago area in 1902. For over fifty years, he served on the faculty of the Cosmopolitan Music School, and for a time served as dean of the school. He was twice dean of the Illinois (now Chicago) Chapter of the American Guild of Organists (1913–1914 and 1928–1930). On January 1, 1930, he became organist to Second Church of Christ, Scientist, Chicago. During his lifetime, over ninety of his compositions were published in many different forms. He died in 1952, at Hilltop, near Lake Bluff, Illinois.

One of the oldest community music schools in the state, the Music Institute of Chicago was founded in 1931 and has campuses in Downers Grove, Evanston, Highland Park, Lake Forest, Lincolnshire, Northbrook, and Winnetka. In 2001, Music Institute purchased its second Evanston campus, the former First Church of Christ, Scientist. First Church had recently merged with Second Church of Christ, Scientist, Evanston, moving to that congregation’s worship space.

First Church vacated its building in 2001, and renovations for the Music Institute began the following year. The building is registered on the National Register of Historic Places. In 2003, when renovations were complete, the prestigious Richard H. Driehaus Award was presented to the Music Institute for its creative reuse of this historic building. For the organ’s ninetieth birthday celebration, the Organ Historical Society presented its Historic Organ Citation #312 on June 13, 2004, during a recital by James Russell Brown.

Between 2005 and 2007, the organ received a historic restoration by J. L. Weiler, Inc., of Chicago. At the conclusion of this project, the organ was reinaugurated in recital by Thomas Murray on September 28, 2007.

Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago

The Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago is the merger of North Presbyterian Church (founded in 1848) and Westminster Presbyterian Church (founded in 1855); Fourth Church was formally organized February 12, 1871, thus celebrating its sesquicentennial in 2021. According to the church’s website: “The name ‘Fourth’ was selected not because it was the fourth Presbyterian church to be founded in Chicago, but because Fourth was the lowest number then not in use.”

Fourth Church refurbished the North Church building at the southeast corner of Wabash and Grand Avenues and dedicated it on October 8, 1871. Within a day, the church burned in the Great Fire of Chicago. North Church housed 1865 Pilcher Bros. & Chant Opus 65, which burned with the church.

The congregation built a new stone building at the northwest corner of Rush and Superior Streets and dedicated it in February of 1874. This building housed Johnson & Son Opus 436, a three-manual organ.

The cornerstone of the present building was laid on September 17, 1912. The English and French Gothic edifice was designed by Ralph Adams Cram, while the accompanying buildings were built to the designs of Chicago’s Howard Van Doren Shaw. This part of what is now North Michigan Avenue was then known as Lincoln Parkway.

The building was dedicated in May 1914. In the ensuing years, the sanctuary was adorned with stained glass windows by Charles J. Connick. At its dedication, it also featured a new, four-manual organ built by the Ernest M. Skinner Company, Opus 210. In the church archives, there is a letter from Ernest M. Skinner to Mrs. Emmons Blaine, 101 Erie Street, Chicago, dated February 13, 1913. Mrs. Blaine was the donor of the organ. Apparently, Skinner had come to the church during its construction, met with Mrs. Blaine, took measurements, and drew a preliminary specification for an organ while at her house. There must have been disappointment with what was perceived to be the size of the organ that could fit into the small main chamber. In the end, the chamber’s exceptionally large height allowed Skinner to stack the organ, providing a much larger instrument to be built. Skinner probably overdid it in this letter by stating:

When I say I am pleased with the result, I mean that the tone will have a perfect outlet, that the organ is not crowded in any way, that it is roomy and convenient of access for the tuners, and that it is a very large complete instrument, second to none in this country; that while there are several stops appearing in the Cathedral organ in New York that I did not put here, I did get in one or two stops that are not in the Cathedral organ, because they were not in existence when that was built. I have invented a new stop through my study over this case.

I wanted to put in a Flute Celeste of which I am very fond. It takes up considerable room, and I set about finding a way to take less. I wanted to make the stop softer than usual, so I had some pipes made to small scale from the model of my Erzahler. The result is a most beautiful combination. I think the most beautiful soft effect I have heard.

It is easy to make a soft tone. It is not easy to make a soft tone and fill it with significance. The sheer beauty of this stop gives me a very great asset and adds another to my list of original stops. I call it “Kleine Erzahler,” which means “little story tellers.” Erzahler means story-teller, it is a german [sic] word and is a stop I designed seven or eight years ago. The stop is so talkative, I have always said it named itself. This new one is a smaller scale of the same family and it takes two pipes to each note, and so becomes plural. They speak with a vibration, as a Violin. I feel very happy over it . . . .

I say without reservation, I am better pleased with this specifications [sic] than any other I have drawn. It is a fine church organ and besides has a wealth of orchestral color and it does not contain a stop of doubtful value. I have always hoped I should land in Chicago with a big one.

While Palmer Christian may have given Ernest Skinner his first organ in Chicago, and even a four-manual organ, it was Mrs. Blane who gave Skinner his first four-manual organ in Chicago that would definitively sow the seeds for more large contracts.

The first mention of Opus 210 in The Diapason occurred in the February 1, 1913, issue on the front page:

Ernest M. Skinner has been commissioned by the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago to build for it a four-manual organ which will be one of the largest and most noteworthy instruments in the country. The organ is to be installed in the new edifice under construction by that church on the north side of the city. This will be probably the largest Presbyterian church in Chicago and the music here, which has always been of the best, is to continue so when the new building is occupied . . . . Expense is not to be spared, and Mr. Skinner is to incorporate every feature that could be of advantage when the size of the building is considered . . . . Mr. Skinner closed the deal when in Chicago about the middle of January. There was no competition for the contract.

The article also mentioned J. Lawrence Erb had been hired as the new organist for the church. The May issue provided the organ’s specification.

The June 1, 1914, issue of The Diapason noted the organ was played at the opening of the church on May 10, and that afternoon a recital was given by Eric DeLamarter, who by then had become the church’s new organist. The article noted the work on the organ had yet to be finished, and Mr. Skinner had made several visits to Chicago during installation. Voicing was done at night, “when the noises of the city were nearly enough stilled to permit them to get in their artistic touches.” Walter Binkemeyer and T. Cecil Lewis were assisting with voicing.

In 1946, Aeolian-Skinner would make some tonal revisions to the organ, adding six ranks. This project was paid for again by Mrs. Blaine. In 1971, the organ was rebuilt/replaced by the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Co. with its Opus 1516, among the last organs completed by the firm, with four manuals, 125 ranks. Goulding & Wood of Indianapolis, Indiana, renovated the organ in 1994 with slight alterations. In 2015, Quimby Pipe Organs completed for this church its Opus 71, the largest organ in Chicago, with five manuals, 142 ranks.

Hyde Park Baptist Church, Chicago

On May 9, 1874, the First Baptist Church of Hyde Park was founded. Hyde Park was a township annexed by Chicago in 1889. With the opening of the University of Chicago nearby on October 1, 1892, the congregation grew rapidly in membership. One of the congregation’s new members was Dr. William R. Harper, president of the new university. Under Harper’s influence, the church began discussions about a new plant in 1893. A new chapel-sized building was finished on the present property in 1896.

In November 1897, ideas about completion of the main church and the acquisition of a pipe organ took form. In 1901 the congregation received a generous gift in the amount of $15,000 from John D. Rockefeller, Jr., who was instrumental in the building of the nearby University of Chicago. Architect James Gamble was commissioned to design the church of Romanesque influence, seating some six hundred persons. In 1904, the congregation changed its name to Hyde Park Baptist Church. The new church was dedicated on January 7, 1906. The exterior is of red sandstone with limestone trim. Original plans called for construction entirely of stone, but this proved too costly. The interior is constructed of limestone, brick, and dark oak, crowned with massive cross beams. A brochure printed by the church notes that “the peaked ceiling is as high as the center aisle is long (some 76 feet).” A small pipe organ acquired a few years earlier at a cost of $1,000 was moved from the chapel to the new church, but it proved inadequate.

In 1914, a new organ was installed by the Ernest M. Skinner Company. The contract was dated January 31, 1913, at a cost of $8,000.00. By April 30, it was decided by mail to move the Swell 8′ French Horn preparation (knob only) to the Choir. It was stipulated: “Both kinds of Vox Humana pipes to be sent for the church to decide which it wants.”

Construction of the organ commenced in May 1914, and it was dedicated on October 22 of that year. This project corresponded with a general decoration of the church interior, designed by James R. M. Morrison. The three-manual, electro-pneumatic action organ, Opus 211, consisted of thirty-one stops, twenty-one ranks, with a total of 1,281 pipes. The console had a manual compass of 61 notes (C–C) and a pedal compass of 30 notes (C–F). The organ was powered by a 71⁄2-horsepower Spencer Orgoblo turbine. Several years later, a set of chimes was added in memory of T. B. Merrill.

This organ was rebuilt by M. P. Möller of Hagerstown, Maryland, in 1956, and is now a thirty-rank organ. The project retained seven ranks of Skinner pipework as well as most of the chests. A new three-manual, drawknob console with 32-note pedalboard was installed. The existing blower was reused. In 1965, the congregation again changed its name, becoming the Hyde Park Union Church, reflecting its affiliation with both the American Baptist Church and the United Church of Christ.

§

The year 1914 became an important and busy year for Skinner in Chicago. Opus 207 (Kenwood Evangelical) and Opus 210 (Fourth Presbyterian) had their first recitals within a month of each other (April 16 and May 10, respectively), and the First Church of Christ, Scientist, Evanston, organ (Opus 208) was finished the following month (June 1). Dedication for Opus 211 at Hyde Park Baptist was not that far behind (October 22). Once these instruments became known to organists of the region, the Skinner and Aeolian-Skinner firms would proceed to build dozens of additional organs for the area, continuing through to the end of the company’s work.

Kenwood Evangelical Church, Chicago

Specification of 1914 Ernest M. Skinner Organ Company Opus 207

GREAT (Manual II, 6″ wind pressure)

16′ Bourdon 61 pipes

8′ First Diapason (scale 42) 61 pipes

8′ Second Diapason (scale 45) 61 pipes

8′ Philomela 73 pipes

8′ Waldflote 61 pipes

8′ Salicional (fr Sw 8′ Salicional)

8′ Erzahler (“com”) 61 pipes

4′ Octave (fr Sw 4′ Octave)

4′ Flute (“Har #2”) 61 pipes

8′ Posaune (fr Sw 8′ Posaune)

Chimes (fr Echo)

SWELL (Manual III, enclosed, 7-1/2″ wind pressure)

16′ Bourdon (“#2”) 73 pipes

8′ Diapason (scale 44) 73 pipes

8′ Gedackt (“com”) 73 pipes

8′ Salicional (scale 64) 73 pipes

8′ Voix Celestes (scale 64) 73 pipes

8′ Aeoline (scale 60) 73 pipes

8′ Unda Maris (TC, scale 60) 61 pipes

4′ Octave 61 pipes

4′ Flute (“#2”) 61 pipes

2′ Piccolo (“com”) 61 pipes

[III] Mixture (“1 break”) 183 pipes

16′ Contra Posaune (“cc 4-1⁄2”) 73 pipes

8′ Posaune (“cc 4-1⁄2”) 73 pipes

8′ Oboe (“com”) 73 pipes

8′ Vox Humana (“com”) 73 pipes

Tremolo

CHOIR (Manual I, enclosed, 6″ wind pressure)

8′ Diapason (scale 50) 61 pipes

8′ Concert Flute 61 pipes

8′ Dulciana (scale 56) 61 pipes

8′ Dulcet 122 pipes

4′ Flauto Traverso (“#2”) 61 pipes

8′ Clarinet (“com”) 61 pipes

8′ French Horn (“com”) 61 pipes

8′ Orchestral Oboe (“com”) 61 pipes

Tremolo

Celesta

ECHO (Manual IV, enclosed, 5″ wind pressure)

8′ Rohrflöte 73 pipes

8′ Quintadena 61 pipes

8′ Unda Maris (2nd rank TC) 110 pipes

4′ Flute 61 pipes

8′ Vox Humana 61 pipes

Tremolo

Cathedral Chimes 25 tubes

PEDAL

16′ Diapason (ext Gt 8′ Philomela)

16′ First Bourdon (Gt)

16′ Second Bourdon (Sw)

16′ Echo Bourdon (ext Echo 8′ Rohrfl)

10-2⁄3′ Quinte (fr Gt 16′ Bourdon)

8′ Octave (fr Gt 8′ Philomela)

8′ Gedackt (fr Gt 16′ Bourdon)

16′ Ophicleide (fr Sw 16′ Contra Pos)

COUPLERS

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Swell to Pedal 4

Choir to Pedal

Choir to Pedal 4

Echo to Pedal

Swell to Great

Choir to Great

Echo to Great

Swell to Choir

Great to Great 4

Swell to Great 16

Swell to Great 4

Choir to Choir 16

Choir to Choir 4

Swell to Swell 16

Swell to Swell 4

ACCESSORIES

5 Great Pistons (thumb)

5 Swell Pistons (thumb and toe)

5 Choir Pistons (thumb)

3 Echo Pistons (thumb)

5 Pedal Pistons (toe)

Combination Setter (thumb)

Pedal to Great Combination On/Off (thumb)

Pedal to Swell Combination On/Off (thumb)

Pedal to Choir Combination On/Off (thumb)

Pedal to Echo Combination On/Off (thumb)

Great Unison On/Off (thumb, left key cheek)

Swell Unison On/Off (thumb, left key cheek)

Choir Unison On/Off (thumb, left key cheek)

Balanced Swell expression shoe

Balanced Choir expression shoe

Balanced Crescendo shoe

Sforzando Reversible (toe, hitch-down)

 

First Church of Christ, Scientist, Evanston

Specification of 1914 Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 208:

GREAT (Manual II)

16′ Bourdon (49 stopped wood, 12 open metal trebles) 61 pipes

8′ Diapason (leathered lips, metal) 68 pipes

8′ Philomela (wood) 80 pipes

8′ Erzähler (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Gedackt (fr Sw 8′ Gedackt)

8′ Dulciana (fr Sw 8′ Aeoline)

4′ Flute (fr Sw 4′ Flute)

8′ Cornopean (fr Sw 8′ Cornopean)

4′ Octave (addition, metal) 61 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Twelfth (addition, metal) 61 pipes

2′ Fifteenth (addition, metal) 61 pipes

SWELL (Manual III, enclosed)

16′ Bourdon (wood) 68 pipes

8′ Diapason (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Gedackt (wood) 68 pipes

8′ Salicional (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Voix Celestes (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Aeoline (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Unda Maris (TC, metal) 56 pipes

4′ Octave (metal) 68 pipes

4′ Flute (metal) 68 pipes

2′ Flautino (metal) 61 pipes

16′ Posaune (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Cornopean (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Flügel Horn (metal) 68 pipes

8′ Vox Humana (metal) 68 pipes

Tremolo

CHOIR (Manual I, enclosed)

8′ Geigen Principal (metal) 61 pipes

8′ Concert Flute (12 stopped wood basses, 25 open wood, 24 open metal trebles) 61 pipes

4′ Flute (metal) 61 pipes

8′ Clarinet (metal) 61 pipes

Tremolo

PEDAL

16′ Diapason (ext Gt 8′ Philomela)

16′ First Bourdon (Gt)

16′ Second Bourdon (Sw)

8′ Octave (fr Gt 8′ Philomela)

8′ Still Gedackt (fr Sw 16′ Bourdon)

16′ Posaune (Sw)

COUPLERS

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Swell to Pedal 4

Choir to Pedal

Great to Great 4

Swell to Great

Choir to Great

Swell to Choir

Swell to Great 16

Swell to Great 4

Choir to Great 16

Swell to Swell 16

Swell to Swell 4

ACCESSORIES

4 Great Pistons (thumb)

5 Swell Pistons (thumb)

4 Choir Pistons (thumb)

4 Pedal Pistons (toe)

Great to Pedal Reversible (toe)

Pedals to Great Combinations on/off (thumb)

Pedals to Swell Combinations on/off (thumb)

Pedals to Choir Combinations on/off (thumb)

Combination Setter (thumb)

Balanced Swell Expression Shoe

Balanced Choir Expression Shoe

Balanced Crescendo Shoe

Sforzando Reversible (toe)

 

Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago

Specification of 1914 Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 210:

GREAT (Manual II, 6″ wind pressure, 16′ Diapason on 5″)

16′ Diapason 73 pipes

16′ Bourdon 61 pipes

8′ First Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Second Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Third Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Philomela 73 pipes

8′ Waldflöte 61 pipes

8′ Erzähler 61 pipes

4′ Octave 61 pipes

4′ Flute 61 pipes

2′ Fifteenth 61 pipes

16′ Ophicleide (10′′ wind pressure) 97 pipes

8′ Tromba (ext 16′ Ophicleide)

4′ Clarion (ext 16′ Ophicleide)

SWELL (Manual III, 7-1/2″ wind pressure, enclosed)

16′ Bourdon 73 pipes

16′ Dulciana 73 pipes

8′ Diapason 73 pipes

8′ Clarabella 73 pipes

8′ Gedeckt 73 pipes

8′ Spitzflöte 73 pipes

8′ Salicional 73 pipes

8′ Voix Celestes 73 pipes

8′ Aeoline 73 pipes

8′ Unda Maris (TC) 61 pipes

4′ Octave 73 pipes

4′ Flute 73 pipes

2′ Flautino 61 pipes

III Mixture (12-15-17) 183 pipes

16′ Contra Posaune 73 pipes

8′ Cornopean 73 pipes

8′ Oboe 73 pipes

8′ Vox Humana 73 pipes

4′ Clarion 73 pipes

Tremolo

CHOIR (Manual I, enclosed, 6″ wind pressure)

16′ Gamba 73 pipes

8′ Geigen Principal 73 pipes

8′ Concert Flute 73 pipes

8′ Quintadena 73 pipes

8′ Kleine Erzähler (2nd rank TC) 110 pipes

8′ Dulcet II 122 pipes

4′ Flute 73 pipes

2′ Piccolo 61 pipes

16′ English Horn 73 pipes

16′ Fagotto (So) 

8′ Clarinet 73 pipes

8′ Orchestral Oboe (So)

8′ Flügel Horn (So)

Tremolo

Celesta (61 bars)

SOLO (Manual IV, enclosed, 10″ wind pressure)

8′ Philomela (Gt)

8′ Gamba 73 pipes

8′ Gamba Celeste 73 pipes

16′ Fagotto 73 pipes

8′ Tuba Mirabilis (15′′ wind pressure) 73 pipes

8′ French Horn 73 pipes

8′ Flügel Horn 73 pipes

8′ Orchestral Oboe 73 pipes

Tremolo

ECHO (6″ wind pressure, enclosed)

8′ Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Gedeckt 61 pipes

4′ Flute 61 pipes

8′ Vox Humana 61 pipes

Tremolo (by Solo Tremolo knob)

PEDAL (5″ and 6″ wind pressure)

32′ Contra Violone 56 pipes

16′ Diapason (ext Gt 8′ Philomela)

16′ Violone (ext 32′)

16′ First Bourdon (Gt)

16′ Second Bourdon (Sw)

16′ Gamba (Ch)

16′ Dulciana (Sw)

8′ Octave (fr Gt 8′ Philomela)

8′ Gedeckt (fr Gt 16′ First Bourdon)

8′ Still Gedeckt (fr Sw 16′ Bourdon)

8′ Cello (So)

32′ Bombarde (ext Gt 16′ Ophicleide)

16′ Ophicleide (fr Gt 16′ Ophicleide)

16′ Posaune (Sw)

8′ Tromba (fr Gt 16′ Ophicleide)

4′ Tromba (fr Gt 16′ Ophicleide)

COUPLERS

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Swell to Pedal 4

Choir to Pedal

Choir to Pedal 4

Solo to Pedal

Swell to Great

Choir to Great

Solo to Great

Swell to Choir

Choir Sub

Choir Super 

Swell Sub *

Swell Super *

Solo Sub *

Solo Super *

Echo to Solo

* “transferred to Great with Swell to Great”

ACCESSORIES

3 Full pistons (draw manual and pedal combinations 5, 6, and 7, does not affect couplers)

7 Great pistons (thumb)

7 Swell pistons (thumb and toe)

7 Choir pistons (thumb)

7 Solo and Echo pistons (thumb)

7 Pedal pistons (toe)

Pedal to Swell Combinations on/off

Pedal to Great Combinations on/off (Great and Pedal combinations effect the other)

Pedal to Choir Combinations on/off

Pedal to Solo Combinations on/off

Combination adjuster (thumb)

Great to Pedal reversible (toe)

Balanced Swell expression shoe

Balanced Choir and Solo expression shoe

Balanced Crescendo shoe

Sforzando reversible (toe, hitch-down)

 

Hyde Park Baptist Church, Chicago

Specification of 1914 Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 211:

GREAT (Manual II)

16′ Bourdon 61 pipes

8′ Diapason (17 basses in façade) 61 pipes

8′ Philomela 73 pipes

8′ Erzähler 61 pipes

8′ Gedackt (Sw)

8 Dulciana (Sw)

4 Flute (Sw)

8 Cornopean (Sw)

SWELL (Manual III, enclosed)

16′ Bourdon 61 pipes

8′ Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Gedackt 61 pipes

8′ Salicional 61 pipes

8′ Voix Celeste 61 pipes

8′ Dulciana 61 pipes

8′ Unda Maris (TC) 49 pipes

4′ Violin (knob only)

4′ Flute 61 pipes

2′ Piccolo 61 pipes

8′ Cornopean 61 pipes

8′ Flügel Horn 61 pipes

8′ Vox Humana 61 pipes

Tremolo

CHOIR (Manual I, enclosed)

8′ Geigen Principal 61 pipes

8′ Concert Flute 61 pipes

4′ Flauto Traverso 61 pipes

8′ Clarinet 61 pipes

8′ Orchestral Oboe 61 pipes

8′ French Horn (“knob only”)

Tremolo

PEDAL

16′ Diapason (ext Gt 8′ Philomela)

16′ First Bourdon (Gt)

16′ Second Bourdon (Sw)

8′ Octave (fr Gt 8′ Philomela)

8′ Gedackt (fr Gt 16′ Bourdon)

8′ Still Gedackt (fr Sw 16′ Bourdon)

COUPLERS

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Choir to Pedal

Swell to Great

Choir to Great

Swell to Choir

Great 4

Choir to Great 16

Choir to Great 4

Swell to Great 16

Swell to Great 4

Choir 4

Choir 16

Swell 4

Swell 16

ACCESSORIES

3 General Pistons (toe)

5 Great Pistons and Cancel (thumb)

5 Swell Pistons and Cancel (thumb)

5 Choir Pistons and Cancel (thumb)

5 Pedal Pistons (thumb)

Pedal to Great Combinations on/off (thumb)

Pedal to Swell Combinations on/off (thumb)

Pedal to Choir Combinations on/off (thumb)

Great to Pedal Reversible (thumb and toe)

Swell to Pedal Reversible (toe)

Choir to Pedal Reversible (toe)

Balanced Swell Expression Shoe

Balanced Choir Expression Shoe

Balanced Crescendo Shoe (with indicator)

Sforzando Reversible (toe)

John Bishop

Control freaks

A little over a year ago, I bought a slightly used 2017 Chevrolet Suburban. It replaced a 2008 Suburban that I drove 250,000 miles. I prefer buying cars that have 10,000 or 15,000 miles on them because I think the first owner absorbs the loss of the “new car value,” and I get to buy a fancier car for less money. The first Suburban was black. Wendy thought Tony Soprano while I thought Barack Obama. My colleague Amory said “Special Agent Bishop” when I arrived at his house to pick him up. But the funnier thing was that while sitting in an on-street parking spot in New York City in the big black car, people would open the back door and get in, thinking I was the limo they had ordered. That happened several times, and each time brought a good shared laugh.

I like to have big, comfortable cars because I drive a lot (between 1985 and 2018, I drove six cars a total of nearly 1,250,000 miles, which is an average of about 38,000 miles a year), and because I carry big loads of tools, organ components, and, um, boat stuff. I can put an eight-foot rowing dinghy in the back of the Suburban and close the door. The new Suburban gets about forty percent more miles to the gallon. But the biggest difference is the electronics.

Sitting at a stoplight facing uphill, I move my foot from the brake to the accelerator to start moving, and a sign on the dashboard lights up, “Hillside brake assist active.” I am told that I am Driver #1 for the auto-set feature for seats and mirrors (and steering wheel and pedals). I am told when my phone connects to Bluetooth or when Wendy’s phone is not present in the car. I am told when the rain sensor is operating the wipers. I am told when my tire pressure is low. I am told when I am following a car too closely. And to the amusement of friends and family, and a little excitement for me, the driver’s seat buzzes when I get close to things like Jersey Barriers, trees, or other cars. It sounds like the gabbling of eider ducks when they are rafting together in big groups at sea.

The feature I like best is Apple CarPlay. When my phone is plugged into the charger, my Apple icons show up on the dashboard touchscreen giving me easy and safe access to Apple Maps, Google Maps, hands-free messaging, and phoning. I can activate Siri with a button on the steering wheel and place a call or record a reminder, so I have no excuse for forgetting things. One of the icons is my Audible account so I can listen to my library of ebooks as I drive.

I expect there is a downside to all these gadgets. Any organbuilder knows that there is a whopper of a wiring harness snaking through the car and a CPU somewhere deep in the bowels of the vehicle, and I imagine that the most expensive repairs I will face down the road will be correcting cranky electronics.

One thing leads to another.

I am thinking about electronic controls because I was amused recently by a post on Facebook by Damin Spritzer¹ who wrote, “Does anyone else have anxiety dreams about Sequencers? *Laughs weakly and makes more coffee.*” There ensued a flurry of responses, some thoughtful and provocative, some ridiculous, and some downright stupid. This conversation brought to my mind several themes I have developed over the years about the advances of pipe organ control systems and various colleagues’ reactions to the relevance, convenience, and pitfalls of new generations of this equipment.

In the late 1980s, I took over the care of the heroic Aeolian-Skinner organ at The First Church of Christ, Scientist (The Mother Church), in Boston, Massachusetts. With 237 ranks and well over 13,000 pipes, this was quite a responsibility. Jason McKown, then in his eighties, who had worked personally with Ernest Skinner in the 1920s, was retiring after decades of service, and before I arrived, the church had contracted with another organ company to install a solid-state switching and combination system. Jason’s comment was simple, “This is for you young guys.” I was present to help with that installation, and, of course, was responsible for maintaining it. That was before the days of effective lightning protection, and whenever there was a thunderstorm, we had to reprogram the Crescendo memory. I had a helper who memorized that huge list of stops, and I could trust her to drop by and punch it in.

Marie-Madeleine Duruflé played a recital at Boston’s Trinity Church for the 1990 convention of the American Guild of Organists. A few days before she was to arrive to prepare for her performance, the solid-state combination system in the organ stopped working and the organ went dead. The company that built the system sent a technician with a bale of spare cards, and we worked through two nights to get the organ running again, just in time for Madame Duruflé to work her magic.

The Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall at Yale University is one of the great monuments of twentieth-century organbuilding. With more than a 165 voices and over 12,500 pipes, it is high on the magic list of the largest Skinner organs, and Nick Thompson-Allen and Joe Dzeda have been its curators for over fifty years. Nick’s father, Aubrey Thompson-Allen, started caring for the organ in 1952. That huge organ is played regularly by dozens of different people, and one might expect that a combination system with multiple levels would have been installed promptly there. But at first, Joe and Nick resisted that change, correctly insisting that the original equipment built by Ernest Skinner’s people must be preserved as a pristine example of that historic art and technology.

However, along with Yale’s teachers, they understood that the change would be a big advantage for all involved, including the durability of the organ itself. Knowing that the cotton-covered wire used in Skinner organs would soon be no longer available, they proactively purchased a big supply. At their request, Richard Houghton devised a plan that added 256 levels of solid-state memory while retaining the original combination action and retaining the original electro-pneumatic actions to operate the drawknobs and tilting tablets as pistons were pushed and settings engaged. Houghton was sensitive to all aspects of the situation, and the 1928 console still functions as it did ninety-one years ago, while serving the procession of brilliant students and performers who use that organ for lessons, practice, and performance. The addition of the new equipment was accomplished with great skill in the spirit of Mr. Skinner under Joe and Nick’s supervision. Neat bundles of green and red cotton-covered wire wrapped in friction tape connect the hundreds of circuits of the console to the new unit, just as if it had been installed by Mr. Skinner’s workers in 1928. A side benefit was the elimination of countless hours spent resetting pistons as each organist took to the bench, hours lost for valuable practice, hours when the huge blower was running to support that mundane task.

Next

The sequencers to which Dr. Spritzer was referring are accessory functions of the more advanced solid-state combination systems that allow an organist to set sequences of pistons whose individual settings are advanced during performance by repeatedly pressing a piston or toe stud labeled “Next.” In addition, some systems allow the organist to program which pistons would be “Next,” so some make all the buttons have that function, while others choose buttons that are easy to reach and difficult to miss.

There is a steep learning curve in gaining proficiency with sequencers. It is easy enough to punch a wrong button or to fail to insert an intended step, so double-checking before performing is advised. And malfunctions happen, leaving a performer stranded with an unintended registration in the heat of battle. In thirty-six hours, Dr. Spritzer’s post attracted 135 “Likes” and 185 responses from organists who have had those magic moments. The brilliant performer Katelyn Emerson chimed in, “When the sequencer jumped no fewer than 16 generals on the third to last page of Liszt’s Ad nos, and I landed on nothing more than an 8′ Gamba, I had nightmares for weeks.” Reading that, I thought, “If it can happen to her, it can happen to anyone.”

Here are a few other replies to Dr. Spritzer’s post:

“No music was written for sequencers, so I don’t use them.”

“Didn’t have to dream it. I lived it.”

“When forward and back are unlabeled brass pedals one inch apart, only mayhem will ensue.”

“I just stick to mechanical action.”

“You know, I’m a sequencer phobic. I’ve had situations where I hit it and it zipped up five pistons.”

“Petrified of the things . . . . Yes, that’s why I never use them.”

Any colleague organbuilder who has or might consider installing a sequencer in an organ console should jump on Facebook (or get a friend to help you), find Dr. Spritzer’s post, and read this string of responses.

There are two basic ways that piston sequencers work. One is that you set all the pistons you need, and then set them in a chosen sequence. You can reuse individual settings as often as you would like, and there is no meaningful limit to the number of steps in a saved sequence. You can go back and edit your sequence, adding or deleting settings mid-way through. This is sometimes referred to as the “American” system.

The “European” system is a little different. It runs through General pistons in order, then scrolls up to the next level of memory and runs through them again. The scrolling continues through all the levels. This seems limiting, because it specifies exactly the order in which you must set pistons, and if you want to return to a setting, you have to program another piston the same way. In both styles, there is typically an LED readout on the console showing the current step in the sequence, and which piston it is, and if there isn’t, there should be.

If there are so many pitfalls, why bother? One of the great things about the state of the pipe organ today is that there are so many brilliant players who concertize around the world. If you perform on twenty or thirty different organs each year, especially those with big complicated consoles, you might take comfort in finding handy gadgets that are common to many of them. If you are adept and comfortable using sequencers, you do not have to go fishing around a big complex console looking for Swell 1, Great to Pedal, General 22, Positiv to Great 51⁄3′, Great 6, All 32′ Stops Off. You just keep hitting “Next.” Some consoles are equipped with “Next” buttons up high, so your page-turner can press it. (If you need that kind of help, maybe you should try the autoharp.)

Some teachers discourage the use of sequencers. Stephen Schnurr, editorial director and publisher of The Diapason, wrote that he “forbids” his students to use them in public performances at Valparaiso University where he teaches. He confirmed my guess, that he is encouraging them to “stand on their own two feet” and learn to play the organ seriously “the old-fashioned way.” That reminds me of my apprenticeship in Jan Leek’s workshop in Oberlin, Ohio, where he made sure I could cut a piece of wood straight and square by hand before teaching me the use of the super-accurate stationary machines. Further, Schnurr believes it is important that students do not rely on sequencers so heavily that they are bamboozled when faced with a console that does not have one. After all, I would guess that well over half of all organs do not have piston sequencers.

Looking at the other side of the issue, a few months ago, the Organ Clearing House installed a practice organ at the University of Washington, specially intended to expose students to the latest gadgets. We expanded a Möller Double Artiste to include a third independent unified division and provided a three-manual drawknob console with a comprehensive solid-state combination action that includes a sequencer. The organ allows students to develop proficiency using a sequencer in the safety of a practice room. It also features two independent expression boxes.

The old-fashioned way

The Illinois organbuilder John-Paul Buzard drives “Bunnie,” his Model A Ford, across the picturesque countryside, sometimes alone, and sometimes in the company of fellow members of a club of Model A owners. It looks like a ton of fun and great camaraderie, especially as club members help each other through repairs. Nevertheless, I will bet he uses a vehicle that is more up to date in the context of daily life. I am not an expert, but I am guessing that the Model A would be taxed if pressed into the mileage-hungry travel routines of an active organ guy. The Michelin radial tires on my whiz-bang Suburban are much better suited for endless hours at, um, eighty miles-per-hour than the 4.75 x 19 tires on the Model A.

In 1875, E. & G. G. Hook & Hastings built a spectacular organ with seventy stops and 101 ranks (Opus 801) for the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston, Massachusetts. The company’s workshop was within walking distance, and Frank Hastings reveled in taking potential clients to see it. It was equipped with a pneumatic Barker lever to assist the extensive mechanical keyboard and coupler actions, ten registering composition pedals, and a fourteen-stop Pedal division, complete with four 16′ flues, a 12′ Quint, and a 32′ Contra Bourdon. Anyone familiar with the construction of such organs knows that represents about an acre of windchest tables.

Thirty-one years later, in 1906, the Ernest M. Skinner Company built a four-manual, eighty-four-rank organ (Opus 150) for the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York, New York. That organ had electro-pneumatic action throughout, pitman windchests, and an electro-pneumatic combination action with pistons and a crescendo pedal. That is a quantum leap in pipe organ technology in thirty-one years.

Look back to the iconic Cavaillé-Coll organ at St. Sulpice in Paris, France, built in 1860. This was likely the most advanced instrument of its time, and the myriad original mechanical and pneumatic registration machines are still in use. We can reproduce how Widor, Dupré, and countless other genius players managed that massive instrument (although the presence of an electric blower takes away some of the original charm—it must have been quite a chore to maintain a brigade of organ pumpers to get through performances of Widor’s organ symphonies). Louis-James Alfred Lefébure-Wély was the organist there when the instrument was new, but Cavaillé-Coll realized that he was not the equal of the instrument and championed Widor as the next titulaire. Widor exploited the vast tonal resources of that great organ transforming the art of organ playing, inspired and enabled by Cavaillé-Coll’s technological innovations.

Ernest Skinner, with his comprehensive combination-actions, helped enable innovative artists like Lynwood Farnam develop new styles of playing. Widor and Farnam were apparently not above using complex and newly developed controls to enhance their command of their instruments. Their organbuilders demanded it of them.

I first worked with solid-state combinations in the late 1970s. Those systems were primitive, and excepting the revolutionary availability of two levels of memory, they had pretty much the same capabilities as traditional electric and electro-pneumatic systems. As the systems got more complex, they were sensitive to flukes like lightning strikes, and their developers worked hard to improve them. Recently I commented to a colleague that we all know that Mr. Skinner’s systems could fail. A hole in a piece of leather could mean that the Harmonic Flute would not set on divisional pistons. He agreed but replied that a good organ technician with a properly stocked tool kit could open up the machine and fix the problem in an hour or so. Some organbuilders are now proficient with electronic repairs, while others of us rely on phone support from the factory and next-day shipment of replacement parts to correct problems.

§

I could repair almost anything in my first car. There were two carburetors, a mechanical throttle, a manual choke, and an ignition rotor. When you open the hood of my Suburban, you see some plastic cowls and some wires and assume there is a cast engine block down in there. To start the car, I step on the brake and push a button. The key must be present, but it stays in my pocket. If I leave the key in the car and shut the doors, the horn gives three quick toots, telling me that the car knows better than to lock the doors. But I suppose someday it will smirk, toot twice, and lock me out.

Next.

Notes

1. Dr. Damin Spritzer is assistant professor of organ at the American Organ Institute of the University of Oklahoma, Norman, artist in residence at the Cathedral Church of St. Matthew in Dallas, Texas, and an active international recitalist. You can read more about her at http://www.ou.edu/aoi/about/directory/spritzer-bio.

Stephen L. Pinel

Stephen L. Pinel holds two degrees from Westminster Choir College, Princeton, New Jersey, and did graduate study in historical musicology at New York University. A church musician for forty-five years, he retired from full-time work in the fall of 2017, but immediately accepted another appointment as organist and choirmaster at All Saints Church, Bay Head, New Jersey. He held a Langley Fellowship at New York University, is a member of Pi Kappa Lambda Music Honor Society, an honorary member of the Organ Historical Society, and a past chair of the St. Wilfrid Club of New York City. He is the author of several books and regularly contributes articles on organ history both here and abroad.

In 1984, William T. Van Pelt, then the executive director of the Organ Historical Society, wrote in The Tracker: Concomitant to the popularity of photography at the end of the nineteenth century was the blossoming of picture postcards that fortuitously embraced organs and church interiors among a wide range of subjects. Cards provide the examples we need to study architectonics and the visual evolution of organs, as well as traits of contemporary builders and their instruments. In some cases, a card represents the only remaining record of an organ’s existence.²

An accomplished photographer, Van Pelt had an uncanny awareness of the pipe organ as an entity of visual art. Like fine furniture, painting, sculpture, or any other form of high art, organ cases designed by organbuilders are distinctive and have identifiable characteristics. Cognizant of their usefulness for study, Van Pelt challenged the members of the OHS to search local antique and book stores for postcards showing vintage pipe organs. By the time his article was prepared for publication, ten society members had submitted more than a hundred cards. Sixteen were chosen to illustrate the article.³ In the thirty-five years since his article appeared, hundreds of organ postcards have surfaced, showing a wide variety of instruments by dozens of American organbuilders.

For context, some fundamentals of postcards may be informative. Cards are usually printed on thick paper or thin cardboard and measure approximately 3½ by 5½ inches. An image appears on the front, while the back is bifurcated—a message is written on the left with the address on the right. When mailed, postcards usually have a lesser rate than first-class postage, so they are slightly less expensive to send. Cards are often used to convey short messages, share memories of distinctive locations, or advertise events. Postcards differ from postal cards—the latter refers to those “special” cards issued by the postal service with the “stamp” already in place. Only the post office can issue postal cards. During the first four decades of the twentieth century, postcards cost a penny to mail, and were often called “penny postcards.”

While a few postcards were issued during the nineteenth century, it was not until the United States Congress passed the Private Mailing Card Act of May 19, 1898, that private individuals, companies, vacation destinations, and ecclesiastical organizations were permitted to print and distribute postcards. Previously, the United States Post Office held the monopoly. The heyday of the postcard was between 1900 and 1945, and one has only to type “postcard” into eBay.com to locate tens of thousands of cards, covering every imaginable topic the world over. Postcards are inexpensive, highly collectable, and an entire subculture has evolved around them at “swap meets” and shows of ephemera. The research value of old cards is that the subject matter may have changed or disappeared,⁴ and the images they display are often not found elsewhere. Stated directly, postcards are primary source documents.

There were several types of postcards. The earliest, published during the period 1900 to 1910, had a small black and white image on the front, surrounded by a white border. The address was written on the back, and if a message was included, it had to be written on the front of the card beside the image. In March 1907, the “divided back” was unveiled. This allowed for the message and the address to be written on the back, but freed the entire front of the card for the image. By 1910, postcards began to be published in color and were immediately mass-produced in huge quantities. About 1930, “linen” post cards first appeared. Those were printed on card stock with high-rag content, but the pressing of a machine gave the impression that the image was printed on linen. The most desirable cards dating from the first decades of the twentieth century were actual photographs, published on photographic paper. Those cards frequently carry high-quality images in keen focus and are eagerly sought by collectors. The final type, called the “chrome” postcard, came into circulation about 1950. They are published from a color photograph and have a shiny, glossy finish. Chrome cards are the type most often found today in souvenir shops.⁵

There are many ways to identify and date postcards. Some images are fully identified on the card itself. Other clues may be deduced from the postmark, since a card was often mailed from its place of origin and a date usually accompanies the postmark. Obviously, the card must pre-date the postmark. Moreover, the image may offer clues to identify the card. Many of the pipe organs pictured on postcards during the first decades of the twentieth century were new when the cards were issued. Organs were expensive, and some organ cards were produced immediately after a new instrument was installed. A few cards actually declare: “Our new pipe organ!” Finally, the style of the stamp may help to narrow the date if the postmark is either faint or incomplete. The post office redesigned stamps every few years. The older cards usually have a one-cent “Franklin,” while by the second decade of the twentieth century it was a one-cent “Washington.”

American organbuilders soon realized the reward of using postcards for promotion. The Estey Organ Co. in Brattleboro, Vermont, the Votteler-Hettche Organ Co. in Cleveland, Ohio, and the Wicks Organ Co. in Highland, Illinois (among others), distributed organ postcards. They were an inexpensive way to advertise recent installations and simultaneously impressed prospective customers. Estey was especially prolific with this method of marketing: several dozen organ cards issued by the firm have been gathered over the years. Sometimes those cards represent an important historical record because the organs they illustrate are now lost to history.

Some postcard organs are well known. This card (Illustration 1) was mailed from New York City to West Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on April 20, 1929, and shows the interior of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine at 110th Street in New York City. The organ, Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 150, completed in 1910, is a huge, four-manual instrument of some 150 ranks⁶ and was dedicated by Clarence Dickinson (1873–1969) in April 1911. Since the card was issued, the organ has been renovated several times, notably under the direction of Ernest M. Skinner & Son in 1939, and by G. Donald Harrison (1889–1956) in 1953.⁷ The organ was restored in 2008 by Quimby Pipe Organs, Inc., of Warrensburg, Missouri.⁸ This spectacular vista, photographed from high in the cathedral, looks down at the chancel and choir. It shows the Skinner organ located on opposite sides of the chancel at the triforium level and provides a vivid impression of the enormity of the space.

Another famous postcard organ (Illustration 2) is the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. A large, four-manual instrument built by the Hutchings-Votey Organ Co. of Boston, the organ was opened on June 20, 1903, by a triumvirate of prominent organists: Henry Benjamin Jepson, Yale University; Wallace Goodrich, Trinity Episcopal Church, Boston; and Gaston M. Dethier, St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church, New York City.⁹ The organ had an early type of electro-pneumatic action designed by Hutchings employee Harry F. Van Wart. The success of the instrument earned its maker, Geo. S. Hutchings (1835–1913), an honorary Master of Arts degree from the university. The card was mailed from New Haven to Springfield Gardens, Long Island, New York, on September 10, 1910, only seven years after the organ was built. In 1915, the organ was greatly enlarged and renovated by the J. W. Steere & Son Organ Co. of Springfield, Massachusetts,¹⁰ and again in 1928 by the Skinner Organ Company.¹¹ This circa 1908 postcard shows the original organ case before it was reworked in 1928.¹²

A few postcard organs (Illustration 3) had grandiose cases! This elegant example was mailed from Richmond, Virginia, to Lena, Indiana, on November 7, 1909, and shows a major, three-manual organ in the Catholic Cathedral of the Sacred Heart. It was built by John Brown (1851–1912) of Wilmington, Delaware, who opened his organ shop in 1887.¹³ Brown, an Englishman by birth, was in business for some twenty-five years and built many organs for congregations in the middle-Atlantic and southern United States. Located in the cathedral’s gallery with an opulent fan of radiating trumpet pipes, the case is reminiscent of the 1869 Geo. Jardine & Son organ at St. George’s Episcopal Church, Stuyvesant Square, New York City. Completed in August 1906, the Brown organ is described in detail in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, but its tubular-pneumatic playing action proved problematic.¹⁴ Only six years later, the organ was rebuilt by M. P. Möller as their Opus 1334, 1912, and the action was converted to electro-pneumatic. Later still, the organ was rebuilt again by the Tellers Organ Co. of Erie, Pennsylvania, and today, almost nothing of the original 1906 organ remains except for the front pipes. Noted historian Donald R. Traser wrote in 2002 that the organ was considered by Mr. Brown to be his masterpiece!¹⁵ 

Some postcards show organs installed decades before. This card (Illustration 4), sent from South Hadley to Charlemont, both in Massachusetts, was mailed on October 6, 1910. It shows the interior of the Old South Church in Boston. Visible in the gallery is an 1822, two-manual organ by Thomas Elliot (1759?–1832), built in London. Henry Corrie (1786–1858), an English organbuilder, accompanied the instrument “across the pond” to superintend its installation.¹⁶ Following its opening on November 22, 1822, Corrie remained in Boston. After working briefly for Thomas Appleton (1785–1872), he settled in Philadelphia and became the leading maker of organs in that city between 1826 and 1850.¹⁷ The Old South organ was rebuilt by E. & G. G. Hook as their Opus 246, 1859, and the projecting keydesk, shown in the card, is the product of their renovation.¹⁸ An organ from the 1820s would have had a recessed keydesk with stopknobs arranged in vertical columns at the sides. The “new” Old South Church on Boylston Street had a three-manual organ by Hutchings, Plaisted & Co., Opus 58, 1875, and later still, a four-manual organ by Ernest M. Skinner Company, Opus 231, 1915. In 1876, the 1822 Elliot organ was moved second-hand to St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Milford, Massachusetts, where it survived until it was broken up for parts about 1955.¹⁹

A circa 1910 card shows a handsome 1872 instrument (Illustration 5) in the front of the Washington Street Methodist Episcopal Church in Petersburg, Virginia.²⁰ The maker of the organ is unconfirmed, yet it appears to be the work of Geo. Stevens (1803–1894) of East Cambridge, Massachusetts. The case bears astonishing resemblance to the 1871 Stevens organ in the First Congregational Church, Rindge, New Hampshire.²¹ Stevens had worked for William Goodrich (1777–1833) and following the latter’s death, set up shop in partnership with William Gayetty (d. 1839). Stevens’s organs were characterized by fine workmanship and stately cases. Stevens built another organ for a Virginia client in 1861: a two-manual instrument for the Broad Street Methodist Episcopal Church in Richmond, installed just as the Civil War began.²² The Petersburg organ remained until it was replaced with a two-manual organ by the Estey Organ Co., Opus 1205, 1913, of Brattleboro, Vermont.

Yet another card shows the sumptuous interior of Trinity Church, Episcopal, in Watertown, New York, with its elaborate Gothic tracery. The organ (Illustration 6) is Johnson & Son Opus 856, 1898, a three-manual organ with thirty registers built in Westfield, Massachusetts.²³ Visible in the image is a reversed console with the organ installed in a right-hand chamber beside the chancel. The installation was completed on March 29 and the organ was first used on Easter Day, 1898. It was later replaced by Skinner Organ Company Opus 457, 1924, and was moved second-hand to the Adirondack Community Church in Lake Placid, New York, where it was installed by Buhl & Blashfield, a Utica, New York, firm.²⁴ Johnson & Son organs were of superb quality and were among the finer organs built in nineteenth-century America.

Three postcard organs were promotional materials issued by well-known American firms. The first (Illustration 7) was built by the Wicks Organ Co., Opus 8, 1909, for the German Ev. St. Petri Church, Okawville, Illinois. The second (Illustration 8) was the work of Votteler-Hettche of Cleveland, Ohio, and was installed in the First Methodist Episcopal Church, Petoskey, Michigan. The third instrument (Illustration 9) was built by the Estey Organ Co., Opus 505, 1907, a two-manual organ for the First Congregational Church, Chelsea, Massachusetts.

University organs are also occasionally represented. This card shows the interior of the auditorium at Valparaiso University in Valparaiso, Indiana. The organ (Illustration 10), built in 1907 by W. W. Kimball of Chicago, Illinois, was a gift of the alumni and was a large two-manual instrument with tubular-pneumatic action. The card was mailed from Valparaiso to Bridgeport, Connecticut, on October 5, 1911, and the message reads in part: “We attend chapel exercises in this place at 8:30 every morning. I have only missed two mornings as yet. We are nicely settled and like it very much.” The large piano on the stage looks like the work of Steinway & Sons! The Kimball organ was rebuilt by Hillgreen-Lane & Co. of Alliance, Ohio, in 1947 and was unfortunately destroyed with the building by fire on November 27, 1956.²⁵

Occasionally, a postcard showing an organ was distributed for parochial purposes. This handsome card (Illustration 11) from the First Reformed Church in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, reminded recipients that a “Sunday School Rally Service” was to be held on Sunday, October 7, 1906, at 2 p.m. The organ in the image was dedicated by the noted blind organist, David D. Wood of Philadelphia, on Thursday evening, October 22, 1891.²⁶ It was built by John W. Otto (1846–1892) of Baltimore, had two manuals and pedals, and cost $1,600.27. Otto was the brother of Louise Pomplitz (1836–1924), and at one time worked for the better-known firm, the Pomplitz Church Organ Co.

A postcard mailed from Port Huron, Michigan, to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on October 2, 1913, is a fine example of a photographic card. The organ (Illustration 12), built by Hillgreen, Lane & Co., Opus 24, 1901, is an early instrument from the firm. The company was the partnership of Alfred Hillgreen (1859–1923), a Swedish immigrant, and Charles Alva Lane (1854–1933). Ultimately, three generations of the Hillgreen family built organs in Alliance, Ohio, between 1898 and 1973. The case shown here is unusually elegant and looks splendid in this turn-of-the century edifice. Note, in addition to the Methodist communion rail, that the choir has seating for almost fifty singers. That is a luxury not many of us enjoy today. The organ had two manuals with “pneumatic couplers”²⁸ and was opened in recital by a Mr. N. Crawthorne and other artists on Friday evening, July 26, 1901.²⁹

Another photographic card shows an organ (Illustration 13) in the Presbyterian Church of Pawnee City, Nebraska. Built in 1908 by the Hinners Organ Co. of Pekin, Illinois, the Hinners list states that the organ had nine registers. The Hinners Co. was known for its catalog organs. A congregation could order an organ through the mail, and the purchase included a set of directions so a member of the congregation could set up the organ! Many Hinners organs were located in rural locations in the Northern Plains, particularly in Nebraska and the Dakotas.³⁰ 

A third photographic postcard mailed from King Ferry, New York, on November 24, 1916, shows an organ (Illustration 14) in the Presbyterian Church built by Clarence E. Morey (1872–1935) of Utica, New York. The small, two-manual organ, his Opus 247, 1907, is recessed into an alcove at the front of the room, behind a raised pulpit platform. Visible in the cleanly focused image are only six stopknobs. Morey worked in Utica until his death in 1935³¹ and built several hundred small organs for the rural churches of Upstate New York. His organs were well built, durable, and many still serve their congregations today after a century of use.³²

Plenty of postcard organs are unidentified. Three interesting cards (Illustrations 15, 16, and 17) were never mailed and have no postmark or stamp. There is no indentifying information. If any reader of The Diapason recognizes any of those organs, the editor would be pleased to receive a letter with the details. Currently the largest collection of organ postcards is held by the Library and Archives of the Organ Historical Society at Stoneleigh in Villanova, Pennsylvania. The archivist there, Dr. Bynum Petty, would be pleased to receive donations of new cards.

Modern scholars and historians have had a tendency to dismiss postcards as trivial, but they remain a significant—and largely untapped—source of information for the study of early twentieth-century American pipe organs. For the evolution of case designs, they are essential. It is only by placing these images side by side that perceptive historians can note the common traits and the progression of style. The next time you pass a shoebox of old postcards in an antique or book store, take a moment to thumb through them. You might find the unique image of an old American pipe organ that is long gone.

Notes

1. Deltiology is the formal word for the collecting and study of postcards. Its etymology is two Greek words: deltion, a small writing tablet, and logy, to hew or to study. The word was first recognized by Merriam-Webster about 1965.

2. William T. Van Pelt, “Post Card Organs,” The Tracker, vol. 28, no. 3 (1984): 21–26.

3. Ibid. 

4. Maurice Rickards, The Encyclopedia of Ephemera: A Guide to the Fragmentary Documents of Everyday Life for the Collector, Curator, and Historian, s.v. “Postcards” (New York: Routledge, [c. 2001]): 249–50.

5. Ibid.

6. “Notes About Town. The new organ of the cathedral . . .,” The New York Age, vol. 24, no. 15 (January 12, 1911): 4.

7. The Great Organ at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine—Description, History, Condition—A Plan for Restoration ([New York, New York:], Cathedral of St. John the Divine, [1992]). 

8. Michael Quimby, John L. Speller, Douglass Hunt, and Eric Johnson, “Cover Feature. Resurgence of a Landmark Instrument. The Restoration of the Great Organ in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York City,” The American Organist, vol. 43, no. 11 (November 2009): 40–43.

9. Edward W. Flint, The Newberry Memorial Organ at Yale University: A Study in the History of American Organ Building (New Haven: Yale University Press; and London: Oxford University Press, 1930), 19; hereafter, Flint; and Joseph F. Dzeda, “Cover Feature. Newberry Organ Restoration Nears Completion,” The Diapason, vol. 107, no. 11 (November 2016): 26–28.

10. “Firm Rebuilding Big Yale Organ,” The Springfield (Massachusetts) Union, vol. 52, no. 307 (November 6, 1915): 3.

11. “Skinner Organ for Woolsey Hall, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.,” Stop, Open and Reed, vol. 5, no. 1 (September 1929): 18–19.

12. Flint, frontispiece.

13. “A Busy Organ-Tuner,” Wilmington (Delaware) Daily Republican, vol. 18, no. 95 (April 9, 1887): 1.

14. “Organ Specially Designed,” The (Richmond, Virginia) Times-Dispatch, No. 17,361 (October 28, 1906): 6; and “View in New Cathedral Showing Great Organ,” TD, No. 17,545 (April 29, 1907): 8.

15. Donald R. Traser, The Organ in Richmond: A History of the Organs, Organists, and Organ Music in Richmond, Virginia, from 1816 to 2001 (Richmond, Virginia: Richmond Chapter, American Guild of Organists. 2001): 92–94.

16. Hamilton Andrews Hill, History of the Old South Church (Third Church) Boston, 1669–1884 (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1890): 446–81.

17. Stephen L. Pinel, “Late from London: Henry Corrie, Organbuilder, and His Family,” The Tracker, vol. 40, no. 4 (1996): 11–23.

18. “Old South Church Organ,” Boston (Massachusetts) Evening Transcript, vol. 30, no. 8,839 (March 26, 1859): 1; and “New Organ at the Old South Church,” (Boston) Daily Evening Traveller [sic], vol. 3, no. 180 (May 2, 1859): 2.

19. “Letters to the Editor,” The Tracker, vol. 14, no. 2 (Winter 1970): 17. 

20. “New Organ Arrived,” The Petersburg (Virginia) Index, vol. 14, no. 31 (October 8, 1872): 5.

21. Organ Historical Society, Organ Handbook (1974): 44–45.

22. “Broad Street M. E. Church,” (Richmond, Virginia) Daily Dispatch, vol. 19, no. 57 (March 19, 1861): 2.

23. John Van Varick Elsworth, The Johnson Organs: The Story of One of Our Famous American Organ Builders (Harrisville, New Hampshire: The Boston Organ Club Chapter of the Organ Historical Society, 1984): 151.

24. Scot L. Huntington, Barbara Owen, Stephen L. Pinel, and Martin R. Walsh, Johnson Organs 1844–1898: A Documentary Issued on the 200th Anniversary of his Birth (Cranbury, New Jersey: The Princeton Academy of the Arts, Culture, and Society, 2015): 150.

25. Organ Historical Society, Organ Handbook (2002): 101.

26. “Organ Recital,” Carlisle (Pennsylvania) Daily Herald, vol. 6, no. 29 (October 23, 1891): 1.

27. “The Organ Accepted,” Carlisle (Pennsylvania) Weekly Herald, vol. 91, no. 42 (October 15, 1891): 3. 

28. “The McCormick Memorial: Fine New Organ First Heard in a Recital Friday Evening,” Port Huron (Michigan) Daily Times, vol. 30 (July 27, 1901): 5.

29. “First Recital on the Organ: Affair at the Methodist Church Last Night was a Great Success,” The (Port Huron, Michigan) Daily Herald, No. 305 (July 27, 1901): 3.

30. Allison Alcorn-Oppedahl, “A History of the Hinners Organ Company of Pekin, Illinois,” The Tracker, vol. 44, no. 3 (2000): 13–25. 

31. “Death Claims C. E. Morey, 63, Organbuilder,” Utica (New York) Observer Dispatch, vol. 14, no. 51 (June 21, 1935): 23; and “C. E. Morey, 63, Succumbs Here,” Utica Daily Press, vol. 54, no. 87 (June 21, 1935): 4.

32. T. L. Finch, “Organ Building in Upstate New York in the Nineteenth Century,” The Bicentennial Tracker (1976): 68–69.

 

Photo: Illustration 1: the interior of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, New York City, and Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 150, completed in 1910 (All cards that accompany this article are from the author’s collection)