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Harpsichord Notes

Larry Palmer
The harpsichordists

The Cambridge Companion to the Harpsichord

One of the exciting events of 2019 has been receiving my copies of both hardback and paperback editions of this 388-page compendium, a decade in the making. The softbound edition is priced at $29.99 (ISBN 978-1-316-60970-5); hardbound is listed at $105 (ISBN 978-1-107-15607-4).

Efficiently and carefully guided by editor Mark Kroll, this hefty tome is the tenth addition to the Cambridge University Press solo instrumental series, joining earlier books about cello, clarinet, guitar, organ, piano, recorder, saxophone, singing, and violin. Also in the “Cambridge Companions to Music Series” are 25 “Topics” individual volumes (from ballet to twentieth-century opera) and 34 individual single-volume studies devoted to composers (from Bach to Verdi).

Seventeen essays “written by fourteen leading experts in the field . . . cover almost every aspect of the harpsichord,” states Editor Kroll in his introductory comments. Here is the list of chapters contributed by an international group of authors:

• History and Construction of the Harpsichord (John Koster)

• The Virginalists (Pieter Dirksen)

• England (Andrew Wooley)

• The Netherlands and Northern Germany (Ton Koopman)

• Southern Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire to 1750 (P. Dirksen)

• France (Mark Kroll)

• Italy (Rebecca Cypess)

• Portugal (João Pedro d’Alvarenga)

• Spain (Agueda Pedrero-Encabo)

• Domenico Scarlatti in Portugal and Spain (João Pedro d’Alvarenga and Agueda Pedrero-Encabo)

• Russia (Marina Ritzarev)

• The Northern and Baltic Countries (Anna Maria McElwain)

• The Harpsichord in Colonial Spanish and Portuguese America (Pedro Persone)

• Bach, Handel, and the Harpsichord (Robert L. Marshall)

• The Harpsichord in Ensemble (Mark Kroll)

• Contemporary Harpsichord Music (Larry Palmer)

• Tuning and Temperament (Paul Poletti)

 

Replica of George Washington’s harpsichord returns its sound to Mount Vernon

A much appreciated news item that I had not otherwise seen arrived in my mailbox at the end of January, courtesy of James Bakner, a longtime friend first met as a church member at St. Luke’s Lutheran Church in Richardson, Texas, my last part-time church music appointment. I am finally sharing this information with our readers, many of whom, I suspect, may be as surprised as I was!

A Google search (“harpsichord at Mount Vernon”) brought up multiple items of interest, not the least of which was that the first president of the United States was an avid music lover who has been quoted as saying, “Nothing is more agreeable, and ornamental, than good music!” I knew that Thomas Jefferson was an avid supporter of music, but I had never read the acclimation from his venerable colleague.

The harpsichord that Washington purchased was acquired in 1793 for his step-granddaughter Eleanor (Nelly) Parke Custis, then 14 years of age, who frequently played it for guests. The instrument, built by the London firm of Longman and Broderip, was a particularly interesting one of grand proportions. Here is its specification as found in Donald H. Boalch’s Makers of the Harpsichord and Clavichord 1440–1840, as it appears in the third edition, edited by Charles Mould (Oxford University Press, 1995):

Two-manual harpsichord; owned by The Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association of the Union, Mount Vernon, Virginia, USA . . . . Serial Number 735 stamped on the wrestplank. Specification: I: 2x8′, 1x4′; II: 1x8′, Lute. Additional Features: 6 hand stops (one a dummy), machine, Venetian swell, music desk, dogleg, 2 pedals. Compass: FF–f3 Keyboard: white naturals, black sharps. Scale: 325 mm. Length: 2343 mm. Width: 955 mm. Depth: 345 mm . . . . It was the final piece of original furniture to be restored to Mount Vernon.

This large instrument was originally delivered to the presidential dwelling in Philadelphia and later moved (with the ex-president’s family) to Virginia. The specification shows a number of additions to an instrument that was struggling to match some of the dynamic possibilities of the new and very popular fortepiano.

The original harpsichord, unplayable for many years, was found to be deteriorating even more quickly than had been noticed previously, and it was moved to a climate-controlled facility (which Mt. Vernon is not). Because of this and the resulting empty spot among the small parlor’s furnishings at the iconic mansion, John R. Watson, curator emeritus of musical instruments for Colonial Williamsburg, was commissioned to create as exact a replica as possible of the original instrument, one to be heard as well as seen.

Among the first artists to perform period music on the meticulously crafted new harpsichord was Temple University harpsichord professor Joyce Lindorff. Among the items that appeared during my Google search were sound tracks of her playing, as well as a video documenting various stages of the replication during Watson’s lengthy work to achieve his result.

In this year of celebrating music at Mount Vernon one of the scheduled events is a harpsichord symposium August 2–3. The cost is $250 for the program of lectures, concerts, and meals. The venue is the Robert H. and Clarice Smith Auditorium at George Washington’s Mount Vernon, 3200 Mount Vernon Memorial Highway, Mount Vernon, Virginia.

Perhaps an assessment of the importance of the replica instrument should be left to John Watson: “What we have with the Mount Vernon harpsichord is a harpsichord that is different from any other surviving period harpsichord” (referring to its distinctive leather plectra, Venetian swell, and machine stop). . . . “And we’re able to hear that sound again without any impact at all on the original harpsichord. They did the best possible thing, which is to leave the original instrument as the historical document to guide the making of an accurate reproduction. We ended up with an instrument that’s more like the original harpsichord would have been when it was new, than the original one can ever be again.”

Photo caption: John Watson, Joyce Lindorff, and the replica harpsichord for Mount Vernon

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Harpsichord Notes

Larry Palmer
Larry Palmer

Marches for March

March: the third month of the year in the Gregorian calendar—the only month with a name that has a musical connection. March: a ceremonial procession in 4/4 time. March: a title for a musical composition (unfortunately not found very often in works for harpsichord). While I was searching for a subject to explore this month these definitions popped into my mind. What follows are the titles and some comments about pieces that include the word “march” in scores that I found in my library of harpsichord music.

From Henry Purcell (1659–1695) we have three short examples to be found in his Miscellaneous Keyboard Pieces (edited by Howard Ferguson for Stainer & Bell, Ltd.): in the “Second Part” of Purcell’s Musick’s Hand-Maid (1689) numbers 2 and 4, each comprising sixteen measures in C major, and from A Choice Collection of Lessons (1696/1699), number 19 (also in C)—twenty-two more measures, all three entitled “March.” Ferguson’s second of the two volumes that present his scholarly edition of Purcell’s complete works for harpsichord does not offer a single march in the composer’s Eight Suites. I mention this because I had also perused a Kalmus reprint of the same Eight Suites edited by the Austrian musicologist Ernst Pauer (1826–1905) who took the liberty of adding one of the aforementioned marches as an addition to Purcell’s Suite No. 5 in C Major—a rather extended addition since Pauer also assured that each of the two sections would be repeated by removing the optional repeat marks in both A and B sections, and then making them seem obligatory by printing each section a second time.

From the 1725 Little Notebook for Anna Magdalena Bach we find three short marches: numbers 16, 18, and 23. In order: twenty-two measures in D major and the same number of measures in G major, both credited to C. P. E. Bach; and twenty-eight measures in E-flat major, the composer unknown—all presented in the Henle Urtext Edition. Interestingly those three marches are vastly outnumbered by nine menuets in this iconic volume of Bach family favorites.

Moving on to France, the only François Couperin entry in the “Marche-Fest” is to be found in that great composer’s Fourth Ordre: “La Marche des Gris-vêtus.” I asked author Jane Clark if I might quote her description of this marching piece as it appears in the book (written with Derek Connon), The Mirror of Human Life. With her generous permission,

"A drinking song in honor of the famous regiment with grey uniforms, the words of which go: ‘Let us sing the glory of the grey coats; Let us sing their virtues when we drink, and pay respect to their strength.’"

[My thanks to the author who informs me that a third edition of this indispensable guide to Couperin’s harpsichord works is forthcoming from London’s Keyword Press.]

More French music: from composer Jean-François Dandrieu (1682–1738) we find “Les Caractères de la Guerre” as the final work in his Premier Livre of which “La March” (eighteen measures) is the second section of this suite (Edition Schola Cantorum, 1973, edited by Pauline Aubert and Brigitte François-Sappey). And finally, an inspired and moving composition by Claude-Bénigne Balbastre (1727–1799), who signed his manuscript “le Citoyen [Citizen] Balbastre, 1792—the first year of the Republic”—obviously an astute survivor of the French Revolution and a patriotic one, as well: Marche des Marseillois et l’Air Ça-Ira. A wonderful, vigorous setting of the French national anthem with variations, it is one of my favorite recital pieces, especially during July. This march has Scarlattian hand crossings and a bass C with a downward squiggly line, marked “Canon” (for which I love to use my elbow to make it a thundering tone cluster, usually enough to wake any dozing persons among the listeners). Originally this work was designated for fortepiano, but it also works well as a harpsichord piece (Edition Le Pupitre 52, edited by Alan Curtis for Heugel, Paris).

§

There is a paucity of American-composed marches for harpsichord. A careful perusal of the indices in Frances Bedford’s magisterial catalogue of twentieth-century works for harpsichord and clavichord did not include even one such work for the revived instruments. And so I turned my attention to the earlier history of music on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Eureka! At least our forefathers’ musical tastes will provide several entries for this month’s topic!

In W. Thomas Marrocco and Harold Gleason’s 371-page survey, Music in America: An Anthology from the Landing of the Pilgrims to the Close of the Civil War 1620–1865 (New York: W. W. Norton, 1964), chapter nine includes both words and music for several delightful additions to our keyboard repertoire. First and foremost is the one-page gem “Washington’s March” from George Willig’s Musical Magazine (Philadelphia, 1794–1795)—eighteen measures of pompous musical delight that I have enjoyed playing on both harpsichord and organ. Early versions of our national anthem and other patriotic songs are also of interest, and at least two Civil War favorites could be adapted for keyboard use: “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” (1863) and “Marching Through Georgia” (1865).

Although it does not have the “m” word in its title I think several voluntaries by William Selby (1738–1798) deserve to be mentioned. The composer, English born, emigrated to Boston, where he became organist of King’s Chapel from 1771 until his death. The beautiful Voluntary in A Major was published in London circa 1770 in a volume of pieces by a host of contributors—ten pieces in all “for the Organ or Harpsichord.” The Selby piece is also included in the book by Gleason and Marrocco and is also the second of two Selby Voluntaries edited by a more recent organist of King’s Chapel, the composer and early music enthusiast Daniel Pinkham (1923–2006). This edition was published by E. C. Schirmer Music in 1972.

Moving southward from New England, I can also recommend a delightful rarity that I purchased from a shop in the Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., in 1975: A Little Keyboard Book: Eight Tunes of Colonial Virginia Set for Piano or Harpsichord by James S. Darling, who was, for many years, organist and choirmaster of Bruton Parish Church in Williamsburg. During my seven years of teaching in Virginia (1963–1970) we met fairly frequently, and both of us had the good sense to purchase a harpsichord from America’s master builder William Dowd.

For Darling’s choice of pieces from Colonial Virginia he selected eight from the manuscript books of the Bolling family, plantation owners in Buckingham County. Following introductory material the first musical item is “Trumpet March,” and the last piece, “Lord Loudoun’s March.” Also of interest to historically oriented musicians is the publication here of the only known work (“Minuet”) by Peter Pelham, organist of the Williamsburg church and jailor for the municipality. This delightful small volume was published in 1972 by the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation (ISBN 0-910412-93-6).

Lastly, I recommend the volume Baroque Folk by Willard A. Palmer (1917–1996), “Moderately Easy to Early Intermediate Piano Solos That Teach”—sixteen familiar melodies arranged in Baroque style (Alfred Music Co., New York, 1969). Opening with three two-part inventions and two minuets, a single march is based on the Israeli National Anthem, Hatikvah. Only one page in length, it is cleverly constructed of imitative counterpoint, and I should think that quite a few of our readers may be organists for Jewish houses of worship as well as for Christian denominations and might, therefore, find special appreciation for their usage of this iconic tune. I will not disclose the other familiar melodies that are presented in new guises in this clever and charming volume. I use several of the arrangements quite often, especially for encores, and it is always a good way to send one’s listeners on their ways, chuckling and humming a favorite tune.And so, dear readers, enjoy the employment of marches in March, and, just perhaps, we might be able to encourage (or commission) one of our American composers to write a new march for use in the year 2021? I have my own particular favorite in mind—or perhaps if we cannot achieve that lofty goal we might just improvise or commit to paper or screen something that we invent for ourselves. Happy March!

Harpsichord Notes

Larry Palmer
John Walthausen

2019 East Texas Pipe Organ Festival features a harpsichordist

The genial genius who founded and organizes the annual East Texas Pipe Organ Festival in Kilgore, Texas, engaged a brilliant young artist to present a recital on Wednesday, November 13, as the first music on what happened to be my birthday. John Walthausen, a name new to me, opened the musical festivities of this mid-festival day with a splendid recital, the first half of which was played on my 1987 Willard Martin Saxon double instrument. When Lorenz Maycher telephoned to ask if I knew of an available German-style instrument I responded, “Yes, I was intimately familiar with an owner, and, yes, I would be happy to loan it to the festival for the recital.” Since a tornado had rocked the part of Dallas in which I live several weeks earlier causing immense damages tallied in the millions of dollars—including some lesser but still dramatic ones to my house—I had not intended to travel in November, but the harpsichord addition to the program as well as a Harold Lloyd silent movie to end that Wednesday schedule roused my interest, and I had decided, with the transportation help of a kind neighbor, to spend that one day in the organ capital of East Texas.

It was a pleasure to hear such a well-chosen program that the artist began by playing a magnificent rendition of J. S. Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D Minor. It was a performance that I believe might have been greeted with favor by Isolde Ahlgrimm (what higher praise could I offer?). Following that work with Polonaise in C Minor by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach and two sonatas in D major by Domenico Scarlatti (K. 490, Cantabile, and K. 119, Allegro)—with superb control of the fiendishly difficult cross-hand top-of-the-keyboard notes—made for an exciting and jubilant conclusion to the first half of the concert.

Equally masterful was the ensuing organ half of the program, played on Roy Perry’s own instrument, Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company Opus 1173. It was thoughtful programming to follow the all-Baroque first half with an all-Romantic second half: Prelude and Fugue in G Minor by Brahms, two of the Sketches for the Pedal-Piano, opus 58, by Schumann, and a completely masterful rendition of Liszt’s magnum opus, Variations on Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen Zagen.

I was especially delighted to learn that the New York-born Walthausen was a fellow Oberlin alumnus (2011, only fifty-one years after I graduated) who furthered his education at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Paris, studying organ with Olivier Latry and Michel Bouvard, following that with a master’s degree in historical performance from the Schola Cantorum of Basel, Switzerland, where he studied harpsichord with Jörg-Andreas Bötticher and organ with Lorenzo Ghielmi. An amazingly widespread series of concerts performed all over the world followed for Walthausen, including a year in Japan as organist in residence at the Sapporo Concert Hall in Hokkaido. He is currently organist and choirmaster of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Glenmoore, Pennsylvania. I, for one, look forward immensely to hearing this young artist again—and soon.

John’s inclusion of Friedemann Bach’s composition encouraged me to play through the complete set of twelve such pieces (found in my music library in six folios published as part of the Hausmusik series of the Oesterreichischer Bundesverlag Wien, on paper now as old as I am it seems, and equally crumbling, perhaps). Among these, several seem more suited to the fortepiano, but a goodly number of the earlier and shorter pieces sound wonderful on the harpsichord, and I encourage their inclusion in future recitals, both by John and the rest of us in the harpsichord community.

2019 Harpsichord Notes: topics and page numbers

January, page 8: Harpsichord Notes in The Diapason: A bit of history

February, pages 12–13: Jane Clark: “D’un goût nouveau:” The influence of Evaristo Gherardi’s Théâtre Italien in Francois Couperin’s Pièces de Clavecin

March, page 11: A fascinating book by Beverly Jerold, Music Performance Issues 1600–1800

April, pages 12–13: The Diapason Harpsichord columns in history part 2: front-page features

May, page 11: CD review of Le Clavecin Mythologique; A major instrument collection (Hatchlands, Surrey, UK) and Claire Hammett

June, page 11: The Cambridge Companion to the Harpsichord; Replica of George Washington’s harpsichord returns its sounds to Mount Vernon

July, page 11: Scarlatti’s Cat in London, Vienna, and Texas

August, page 11: From A to Z Harpsichord Notes: A duo and The Harpsichord Diaries; Twentieth-century harpsichord concertos; One Hundred Miracles by Zuzana Ru˚žicˇková (with Wendy Holden)

September, page 11: Program planning

October, page 13: Celebrating Herbert Howells

November, pages 12–13: Giving thanks from A to Z, part 1

December, page 11: Giving thanks from A to Z, part 2.

§

As we begin another year I have several questions for our readers. 1) Have any of you played one or more of the Friedemann Bach polonaises? 2) Does anyone know of a pedal harpsichord for sale (a separate unit with an organ-like pedalboard that is placed beneath the regular harpsichord comprising one or two manuals—the pedal unit consisting of independent registers? John Challis built several of these, most famously one for E. Power Biggs, and I am seeking such an instrument for a current student of mine). Meanwhile, best wishes for an exciting 2020 and the many musical adventures that surely lie before us during the coming months.

Harpsichord Notes

Larry Palmer
Jerold book

A fascinating book by Beverly Jerold, Music Performance Issues: 1600–1900

Readers of The Diapason’s July 2018 issue most likely remember Beverly Jerold’s article about two eighteenth-century concerts of Handel’s music as reviewed by the Berlin Court Kapellmeister Johann Friedrich Reichardt, who attended the programs during his 1785 visit to London. Ms. Jerold has spent much of her life researching for period information about musical performances as reported by the persons who experienced them. One could see in the stunning color headshot of this intrepid author that she has a firm chin and twinkling eyes, ever on the lookout for authentic information about the topic that she is researching. These period verifications serve as guides for those who seek stylistic authenticity in their own present-day performances.

From the many varied essays that Jerold has published in a wide range of journals she has selected nineteen articles for her book Music Performance Issues: 1600–1900, issued in 2016 by Pendragon Press, Hillsdale, New York, as a paperback edition comprising 359 pages of useful knowledge (ISBN 978-1-57647-175-0, list price: $65, available from www.pendragonpress.com).

I would enjoy sharing many of her remarkable discoveries and observations with you, but it would be unfair for me to present you with Jerold’s discoveries, and it might rob you, the readers, of the surprises that you may have when you read the book for yourselves. I do encourage you to access the volume and to enjoy Jerold’s findings, offered with the utmost clarity and complete references to her sources. To whet your curiosities, here are the titles of the book’s chapters:

• Dilettante and Amateur: Our Evolving Language

• Bach’s Lament about Leipzig’s Professional Instrumentalists

• Choral Singing Before the Era of Recordings

• Why Most a cappella Music Could Not Have Been Sung Unaccompanied

• Fasch and the Beginning of Modern Artistic Choral Singing

• What Handel’s Casting Reveals About Singers of the Time

• Intonation Standards and Equal Temperament

• Eighteenth-Century Stringed Keyboard Instruments from a Performance Perspective [LP: You may be surprised about the clavichord!]

• The Tromba and Corno in Bach’s Time

• Maelzel’s Role in Beethoven’s Symphonic Metronome Marks

• The French Time Devices Revisited

• The Notable Significance of Common Time and Cut Time in Bach’s Era

• Numbers and Tempo: 1630–1800

• Overdotting in Handel’s Overtures Reconsidered

Notes inégales: A Definitive New Parameter

• Distinguishing Between Artificial and Natural Vibrato in Premodern Music

• A Solution for Simple (secco) Theater Recitative

• How Composers Viewed Performers’ Additions

• The Varied Reprise in Eighteenth-Century Instrumental Music—A Reappraisal

Telemann Sonatas for Violin and Harpsichord

Totally unfamiliar music by the most prolific baroque composer Georg Friedrich Telemann (1681–1767) fills a recent compact disc featuring violinist Dorian Komanoff Bandy and harpsichordist Paul Cienniwa (Whaling City Sound, WCS 108). Originally published in Frankfort-am-Main in 1715, these six four-movement works, each comprising alternating slow-fast-slow-fast movements, were composed with the burgeoning amateur house music musician in mind. A seventh sonata of similar style and length that has survived only in the composer’s manuscript preserved in the Dresden State Library receives its world premiere recording to fill out the program.

In disc and numerical order the sonatas are in G Minor, D Major, B Minor, G Major, A Minor, and A Major; the extra seventh sonata is in F-sharp Minor. Each composition bears the TWV (Telemann Werke Verzeichnis [“work catalogue”]) number 41, followed by an indication of its individual key (in German style: g, D, h, G, a. A, fis).

I had met the harpsichordist during a long-ago Boston Early Music Festival visit. He has recently relocated to the warmer climes of Florida where (now Dr.) Paul Cienniwa is music director of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Delray. Thus it was not difficult to locate an email address for this fine artist. I especially wanted to learn who had built the harpsichord used for this recording and to ascertain whether the works were being played from a realized score or from the more probable two-line original engraving. It turned out to be the latter, which made my admiration for such beautiful collaborative musicianship ascend even several units higher. Especially an elegant solo harpsichord introduction to the “Cantabile” of the B-minor Sonata had moved me deeply, and I appreciate the sensitive musical realization of the figured bass throughout. It also pleased me that Cienniwa lists among his musical mentors Jerome Butera, a longtime editor of The Diapason and currently the magazine’s sales director. (File that in your “Small World” folder, please.)

The fine-sounding instrument, it turned out, is a single-manual 2 x 8 example inspired by the unique 1681 Vaudry harpsichord (an instrument that our readers encountered briefly last month through the illustration for Jane Clark’s article on François Couperin). It was built in 2008 by Kevin Spindler. For those who might wish to acquire this music, violinist Bandy suggests IMSLP for downloading (https://imslp.org), or, even better, a facsimile of the 1715 edition published by Anne Fuzeau Productions (http://www.editions-classique.com/en/index.php). With such a fine example of the collaborative harpsichord line for consultation, one might not be so reluctant to realize that figured bass.

Harpsichord Notes

Larry Palmer
Larry Palmer

Scarlatti’s cat in London, Vienna, and Texas

Our story begins with Thomas Roseingrave, born in Winchester, England, in 1688. He emigrated to Dublin, Ireland, with his father, his first music teacher. In 1707 he entered Trinity College, but did not complete his degree. A life-changing trip to Italy was financed in 1709 by Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, “to improve himself in the art of music that hereafter he may be serviceable to the Cathedral’s music program.”

It was at the home of a nobleman in Venice that young Roseingrave was invited to play the harpsichord. As he related to music historian Charles Burney some years later, “finding myself rather better in courage and finger than usual, I exerted myself and fancied by the applause I received that my performance had made some impression on the audience . . . .” Burney continues,

". . . a grave young man dressed in black and in a black wig had stood in one corner of the room, very quiet and attentive while Roseingrave played. Being asked to sit down at the harpsichord, when he began to play, ‘Rosy’ said he thought ten hundred devils had been at the instrument. He never had heard such passages of execution and effect before. Inquiring the name of this extraordinary performer he was told it was Domenico Scarlatti, son of the famous opera composer Alessandro Scarlatti. Roseingrave did not touch the harpsichord for a month following this experience, but, after his hiatus he became very intimate with the young Scarlatti, following him to Rome and Naples, and hardly ever leaving him during his time in Italy . . . ."

Returning to England in 1714 or 1715, Roseingrave continued to champion Scarlatti’s music, producing one of his operas at the Haymarket Theatre and publishing an edition of forty-two Scarlatti sonatas in 1739, a volume that included some examples from the 1728 Essercizi, including Kirkpatrick number 30, the “Cat’s Fugue,” which came to bear the descriptive title that is often credited to the composer Muzio Filippo Vincenzo Francesco Saverio Clementi, born in 1770 in Bonn. And why, you may ask, is it universally known today as something to do with a cat?

That answer derives from its wide-ranging fugal subject that begins on the G below middle C and continues upward dotted quarter note by dotted quarter with these intervals: G–B-flat, E-flat–F-sharp, B-flat–C-sharp, then cascades downward in eighth notes: D, C-natural, B-flat, A, G, F-sharp, G—a rather strange subject, but, bearing Scarlatti’s original tempo indication of “Moderato” this 6/8 theme does indeed sound rather like a middle-aged tabby cat walking on its favorite harpsichord keys!

I would emphasize the moderate tempo should you wish to play this audience-pleasing harpsichord or organ sonata! A Lyrachord recording by a very fine harpsichordist who is excessively fleet of finger rather destroys the fun and enjoyment of the quite unusual harmonies generated. Of course, I, too, have been guilty of playing too quickly many times, but once I approached retirement age I found that I really preferred to dwell longer on sonorities that I find beautiful. (Although my late-in-career students would probably counter, “But he always mentioned that he would prefer a slightly slower tempo!”)

Roseingrave made a number of changes to Scarlatti’s score of K. 30: these included a few differing notes, some octave doublings, and the replacing of many dotted quarter notes with a plain quarter, followed by an eighth rest rather than a dot—making these passages much more suitable to the organ and to the resonant acoustics of London churches. Speaking of which it may be of interest that Roseingrave, in 1725, became the organist of Saint George’s, Hanover Square, the parish church of none other than George Frederic Handel, the longest-lived of the 1685 triumvirate.1

If one should wish to play from Roseingrave’s score, the best edition of K. 30 is a 1972 publication from Alfred Music, New York, edited by Willard Palmer (who used to say when I was performing in his presence, “Unfortunately, no relation”) and Margery Halford, both Houston-based early-music supporters. These intrepid researchers compared all the earliest printings (there is no autograph known to exist)—and their edition contains a facsimile of the work from the first printed edition (London, 1738) of which the first copy was presented by the composer to his patron King Joâo V of Portugal. Roseingrave’s changes to the score are given in smaller staves directly above the affected measures, and other divergences are indicated by footnotes referencing a copy of Scarlatti’s first edition that was reprinted by Witvogel in 1742 and Clementi’s version, published about 1811 in the second of four volumes comprising Clementi’s Selection of Practical Harmony. All of these useful addenda resulted in a score of 10 pages: the most comprehensive edition that I have found of this iconic work.

To continue with the references found in my title, I used an April 2019 recording from a demonstration concert performed on the oldest playable organ in Texas, the Caetano Oldovini organ built in 1762 and now housed in Southern Methodist University’s Meadows Art Museum. This instrument was originally in the Monks’ Gallery of Evora Cathedral in the university city of that name in Portugal, where it was one of three organs in the building.

Vienna: Reicha

A composition that I have never encountered on anyone else’s concert programs is the Fugue on a Theme by Domenico Scarlatti, opus 36/9 by Antoine Reicha. I found this delightful homage in Volume 2 of Bohemian Piano Music from the Classical Period, edited by Peter Roggenkamp, published by Universal Edition, Vienna (UE18583), in 1990. Perhaps Reicha, an exact contemporary of Beethoven (both born in 1770) felt some special kinship when he moved from Prague to Bonn with his parents in 1785?

In 1799 Reicha traveled to Vienna with the hope of provoking interest in his newly composed opera. His first visit was not to Beethoven, however, but to his idol, Josef Haydn, to whom his opus 36, a collection of contrapuntal works, is dedicated.

Eventually Reicha moved to Paris, where in 1818 he was appointed professor of counterpoint and fugue at the Paris Conservatoire, where his classes included such now well-known figures as Hector Berlioz, Franz Liszt, and, for the ten months prior to his death in 1836, as special mentor to César Franck!

Reicha’s “Cat Fugato” (pun intended) with its tempo indication of “Allegro moderato” may portray a slightly younger cat than Scarlatti’s, but the theme is the same, and the full title Fugue on a Theme from Domenico Scarlatti leaves no doubt as to the homage work that it is. Gently swirling sixteenth notes sound lovely on the harpsichord, and I enjoy, immensely, introducing this beautiful novelty to audiences. Depending on my mood of the moment I sometimes make the piece even more special by changing the concluding chord from minor to major; thus far, no thunderbolt has reached me from the heavens (nor from below the earth), so I suspect that I have the composer’s blessing.

Thus we have fulfilled the offerings named in the title of my presentation for the May conference of the Historical Keyboard Society of North America (HKSNA) held this year at Huntsville, Texas, in the beautiful venues provided by Sam Houston State University. I made an ad hoc quick recording of Reicha’s Fugue utilizing my Richard Kingston Franco-Flemish double harpsichord, to complement the organ solo of Scarlatti’s original Fugue. A neighbor did the recording, and, with the multiple duties of preparing for the trip, I did not check the disc that was offered. Thus, when I checked its suitability and compatibility with my computer, I had the shock of its not being playable.

My rescuer in this debacle was newly minted DMA Silvanio Reis, a star pupil of Temple University’s Joyce Lindorff (who, incidentally, succeeded me as president of the Southeastern Historic Keyboard Society, one of the now-merged components of the current national organization). His computer was receptive to MP-3 recording, and he not only operated the sound for this second selection, but also took over the earlier disc of the organ fugue, which made my morning presentation much easier than I could have imagined. Dr. Reis also made his own presentation, “The International Idiom in the Keyboard Sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti,” during which he played examples from six sonatas as apt musical preludes to my more verbal and humorous offering.

Note

1. Dates given in Gerald Gifford’s article for Grove’s Dictionary of Music, Fifth Edition.

Editor’s note: the staff of THE DIAPASON congratulates Dr. Palmer on being named a member of the International Advisory Panel for the Historical Keyboard Society of North America.

The mystique of the G. Donald Harrison signature organs, Part 2

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.

Forest Park: St. John Lutheran

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.

The 1755 John Snetzler Organ, Clare College, Cambridge, restored by William Drake, Ltd., Joost de Boer, Director

An analysis by Michael McNeil from data published in 2016 by William Drake, Ltd., Organbuilder

Michael McNeil

Michael McNeil has designed, constructed, and researched pipe organs since 1973. He was also a research engineer in the disk drive industry with twenty-seven patents. He has authored four hardbound books, among them The Sound of Pipe Organs, several e-publications, and many journal articles.

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Editor’s note: The Diapason offers for the first time here a new feature at our digital edition—two sound clips. Any subscriber can access this by logging into our website (www.thediapason.com), click on Current Issue, View Digital Edition, scroll to this page, and click on <soundclip> in the text.

John Snetzler

By 1750 England had become a nation with a large middle class with an appetite for music and art performance. “It proved to be a magnet to foreigners such as Handel and J. C. Bach. It is no surprise at all to find a continental organbuilder making a substantial impact in England in the 1750s.”1 John Snetzler, born in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, in 1710, may have arrived in London as early as 1740. His earliest known instruments date from 1742, one of them a chamber organ at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. According to Charles Burney, who knew Snetzler personally, he may have worked on Christian Müller’s famous organ at the Bavokerk in Haarlem, the Netherlands, during its construction in 1735 to 1738.2 Although his stop nomenclature looks very much like normal English fare of the time, Snetzler’s sound is much bolder and brighter. This voicing style led to the development of true string tone in Snetzler’s Dulcianas.

Large contracts for English cathedrals eluded him, and Snetzler never achieved the fame of builders like Samuel Green. He produced many smaller chamber organs along with a few larger instruments. According to Bicknell, Snetzler may have been excluded by the remains of the Guild system.

“To claim that Snetzler cornered the market in chamber organs would be an exaggeration, although it is difficult to escape the conclusion that he led the field in re-establishing their popularity.”3 Bicknell was a gifted English writer, fully at ease in organbuilding technology, music theory, and historical context. His description of a chamber organ built by Snetzler in 1763 for Radburne Hall, Derbyshire, but now residing in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, gives a clear idea of Snetzler’s tonal concept:

A pedal raises and lowers the lid of the organ to provide a simple swelling device. In 1982 the organ was very clean and well preserved and still retained most of its original leather work. The pipes had been crudely torn to alter the tuning, but once repairs had been made it became clear that the instrument had been tuned in 1⁄4-comma meantone temperament or something very close to it. The effect, in the home keys, of the Fifteenth and the strong quint and tierce in the Sesquialtera and Cornet is astonishingly bold. The effect of playing a chord of C major, with the tutti very strongly coloured by dissonant intervals in the upperwork, is disconcerting. Moreover, the Stopped Diapason and Flute sound the unison rather weakly, with a very strong first harmonic (the octave quint). The result is that the notes of a G major triad are represented almost as strongly as those of C major. To analyse a chorus in this way is to challenge the very principles of organ tone, and it has to be accepted that the multiple dissonances and consonances found in a principal chorus actually produce a musical effect full of interest and colour. But here, with such a Spartan distribution of the harmonic components and heard at very close quarters the tonality of this or any other chord is highly ambiguous. However, as soon as it is put into musical context, all becomes clear, and the vigour and daring of Snetzler’s method is suddenly justified. The combination of boldly voiced mutations and shifting patters of consonance and dissonance (always a part of a performance on a keyboard instrument tuned to meantone temperament) highlights the harmonic structure of the composition played, and in particular emphasises modulations away from the home key. That home key will itself have its own colour, depending on how many sharps or flats it has. This tonal world is one that is almost completely unfamiliar to modern ears, despite the early music movement and interest in authentic performance: the insights it provides are well worth pursuing.4

Snetzler built a chamber organ in 1755 with one of his larger specifications, whose original provenance is unknown but today resides in Clare College, Cambridge, and has survived without significant alterations. The “vigour and daring of Snetzler’s method” can be heard in a Youtube recording of this organ (pre-restoration) of Bach’s Fugue in C Minor, BWV 575.5 <soundclip1 here> Although containing only one manual and no pedal, it extends in the English style of the time from GG, AA to f′′′, a compass that descends well into the 16′ octave. The performance of the fugue incorporates the use of this extended bass compass with revisions to the score to accommodate the original pedal line. The balances in the voicing allow all voices to be clearly heard and the emotional impact is startling.

Like other English builders of his time Snetzler used a form of meantone tuning (not heard in the Youtube recording), whose pure or nearly pure major thirds added significant gravity with their low resultants. The gravity of meantone tuning along with the extended manual bass compass goes a long way to explain why the lack of an independent pedal persisted in English organs well into the early nineteenth century.6 <soundclip2 here>

But what makes this particular organ most interesting is that it has been restored and documented in unprecedented detail by William Drake, Ltd., who have placed on their website descriptions, drawings, data, and photographs from which Snetzler’s work can be fully understood.7 This is no small achievement; organs are almost never documented in such detail.

Preface to the analysis

Good documentation of organs with enough pipe measurements to permit an analysis of both scaling and voicing is extremely rare. Pipe diameters, mouth widths, and mouth heights (cutups) may be found to some degree, but toe diameters and especially flueway depths are extremely rare. William Drake, Ltd.’s documentation of the 1755 Snetzler organ includes all of this and much more—detailed dimensions of the windchest and wind system that allow a full analysis of wind flow and wind dynamics, parameters having an enormous impact on the sound of an organ. A full narrative of the restoration in William Drake, Ltd’s. documentation includes the data that support the very few restorative changes made to the instrument, all of which were guided by carefully documented investigative work.

William Drake, Ltd., gives us a good model for documentation, where they have chosen to provide photographs and detailed hand drawings of the organ along with the important dimensions. While computer drawings are nice, most organbuilders do not have the time or funding to make them. If we want to see good documentation in print, we must also be willing to accept the lack of polish in hand drawings. The editorial staff of The Diapason has shown courage in their willingness to publish such drawings.

The data in this analysis are presented in normalized scales for inside pipe diameters, mouth widths, and mouth heights. Tables showing how raw data are converted into normalized scales may be found in the article on the E. & G. G. Hook Opus 322 published in The Diapason, July 2017, pages 17–19. The set of data and the Excel spreadsheet used to analyze the Snetzler may be obtained at no charge by emailing the author.8 Readers interested in a deeper understanding of the models used in the analysis may refer to the book The Sound of Pipe Organs.9

Pitch, temperament, wind pressure, and compass

The Snetzler organ is pitched at A = 422.5 Hz at 17.5 degrees Celsius. The current tuning is Young II temperament with indications of original meantone. The wind pressure, water column, is quite low at 51 mm (2 inches). The compass is GG, AA to f′′′. The organ has no pedal but derives bass tone from its extended manual compass, which with its lower pitch extends nearly a halftone below GG. The stops are divided bass and treble:

Bass, GG, AA to b

Sesquialtera (17–19–22)

Principal (4′, full compass)

Flute (4′)

Dulciana (8′, GG to F# grooved)

Diapason (8′)

 

Treble, c′ to f′′′

Hautbois (8′, expressive)

Cornett (8–12–17)

Fifteenth (2′, full compass)

Flute (4′)

Dulciana (8′)

Diapason (8′)

The wind system

The wind system can be modeled from two viewpoints: 1) the restriction of flow from the areas of the wind trunks, pallets, channels, and pipe toes, and 2) the dynamics of the wind. Wind dynamics are fully explained in The Sound of Pipe Organs and are a very important aspect of an organ’s ability to sustain a fast tempo with stability or enhance the grand cadences of historic literature. The superb data set on the Snetzler allows us to explore all of these characteristics. Figure 1 shows the Snetzler wind flow model.

In Figure 1 we see two lists of all of the stops with the pipe toe diameters for a note in each octave in the compass at the top and their calculated areas directly below. These toe areas are then added together (this is the first set of boxed values). The key channels must be sufficiently large to flow wind to these pipe toes, and the pallets activated by the keys must be sufficiently large to flow wind to the key channels.

A model for the total required wind flow of the full organ assumes a maximum of ten pallets (a ten-fingered chord) as described in the next line in the table, and the combined toe areas are multiplied by the number of these pallets played in each octave of the compass. Here we see that the sum of the flow of all of the pipe toes in the full organ (the next boxed value) is 2,982 mm2.

Next in the table are values for the pallet opening lengths, the extent that the pallets are pulled open when a key is depressed (estimated from the ratios in the drawings), and the height and widths of the key channels that are fed wind by the pallets. These data allow us to calculate the relative wind flow of the channels (height times width), and we find that there are robust margins in the windflow from the channels to the pipe toes (see the boxed values of 201% at low GG to 549% at high c′′′).

Now we can calculate the flow of the pallets that feed the channels (the sum of the opening length and channel width times the pallet pull), and we find the ratio of the flow of the pallet openings to the channels (the next boxed values) is less robust and ranges from 88% in the bass to 187% in the high treble. The pallets still adequately flow wind to the bass pipes when we consider the more robust margins in channel flow. The estimate of the pallet pull may also be low. It is interesting to speculate that pallets that just barely flow the required wind to the channels may allow some degree of modulation of touch to the organist. Smaller pallets also require less force to open and are easier to play.

The next value, the area of the wind trunk, is 10,230 mm2, and we see that the area of the wind trunk affords 3.4 times more wind than all of the pipe toes in the full organ, so much in fact that it does not function as an effective resistance in the system. Interestingly, the Isnard organ at St. Maximin uses the wind trunk as a strong resistor to dampen Helmholtz resonances in the wind system, and it has a ratio of wind trunk area to a plenum toe area of 1.07 for the coupled principal chorus of the Grand-Orgue and Positif (no reeds, flutes, or mutations). Helmholtz resonances are the source of what is normally called wind shake, and we might expect some mild wind shake with the Snetzler wind system with its large wind duct and low damping.

The underlying dynamics of a wind system are the result of its mass and volume. These factors produce a natural resonance that can enhance the grand cadences of literature with a long surge in the wind, or it can produce a nervous shake if it is too fast. A grand surge in the wind is characterized by a resonant frequency of less than 2Hz (cycles per second), and it is most often produced by a weighted wedge bellows. A nervous shake is characterized by much higher resonant frequencies, and it is produced by a sprung, vertical rise bellows with low mass. We correct the latter condition with small concussion bellows in modern organs, but the Snetzler wind system does not have such devices; instead, it features a weighted wedge bellows.

We can model the dynamic response of an organ by using its wind pressure, the area of the bellows plate, and the combined internal volume of its bellows, wind trunk, and pallet box. The model in Figure 2 shows the dynamic response of the Snetzler wind system at a relaxed 1.52 Hz, producing a wind surge of 0.66 seconds. William Drake, Ltd., found that the original wedge bellows had been modified to a vertical rise design, which the model shows would have resonated at about 2.26 Hz with 0.44 seconds surge, and they wisely restored the original design. The restorers found that with the wedge bellows, “The wind is lively but smooth and enhances the sound in a musically pleasing way.”7

The scaling

The Normal Scale of pipe diameters is a way to visualize relative power, where a flat line from bass to treble will produce relatively constant power. Pipes with data extending higher in the graph will produce more power. Each half tone on the vertical scale is worth 0.5 dB of power. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 8–32, for a discussion of the underlying theory and principles. The Snetzler metal principal chorus pipes have a constant scale where all pipes of the same pitch have the same diameter regardless of the stops in which they appear. Snetzler mildly increased his treble scales from about 1⁄2′ in pitch in Figure 3, a reflection of the smaller acoustics of chamber organs and less need to compensate for distance losses. The flute has wider treble scales. The Snetzler Dulciana descends dramatically; it shares the bass with the Diapason. The scales of the wood pipes are represented by their diagonals, not their relative areas; this represents the true power capability of the standing wave in the pipe, as pointed out by John Nolte, and correctly relates to metal pipes. The GG compass is represented by notations on the pitch axis as “10, 5, 2.5,” indicating rough approximations of the length in feet for the extended bass compass.

The Normal Scale of mouth widths operates just like the pipe diameters, where a flat line from bass to treble will produce relatively constant power. Pipes extending higher in the graph will produce more power. Each half tone on the vertical scale is worth 0.5 dB of power.

Mouth widths are nearly always a better indicator than pipe diameters of power balances; this is because mouth widths can be designed to vary considerably within the same diameters of pipes. Narrower mouths will produce less power, other voicing parameters like flueways and toe diameters being equal.

In Figure 4 we see that Snetzler greatly reduced the mouth widths of the 8′ Diapason and the 4′ Flute. The mouth width reduction of the Diapason in Figure 4 reduces the power to blend seamlessly into the tenor of the Dulciana; it also makes the upperwork seem relatively much more powerful. This example of the seamless blend of the Snetzler mouth widths for the Diapason and the Dulciana shows why it is often advantageous to use mouth widths, not diameter scales, to understand the balances of power in a chorus. The Dulciana has very narrow mouths consistent with its role as a soft string stop.

The voicing

Mouth height, or “cutup” as it is commonly called by voicers, is the primary means of adjusting the timbre of a pipe. Low cutups will create a bright tone with many higher harmonics while high cutups will produce smoother tone. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 68–80. It is not uncommon to find flute pipes cut as much as 12 half tones higher than principal pipes in classical pipe organs.

In the Normal Scale of mouth heights, a higher cutup value on the vertical scale will result in smoother tone. Cutups may be adjusted higher for two reasons: 1) the voicer wants a smoother timbre, or 2) the voicer wants more power at the same timbre. More power means more wind, and this means a larger toe or flueway opening to admit more wind. More wind will always produce a brighter tone, so the voicer can make a pipe louder and preserve the original timbre by opening the toe or flueway and raising the cutup until the timbre is restored.

Pipe toe diameters can be normalized (this is the “C” parameter in Figure 6) to the diameter of the pipe, the width of the mouth, and the depth of the flueway; larger values of “C” will admit more wind to the pipe. Readers may find the derivation of this normalization in The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 43–47.

Now we can understand the Snetzler graphs. In Figure 5 we see exceptionally low cutups in the bass that are low even for the very modest 51 mm. pressure. Snetzler’s use of bold nicking on the languids of the bass and mid-range pipes stabilizes the speech with such low cutups. This is consistent with the “slower” speech of Snetzler’s voicing, where the languids are kept high and the resulting timbre is brighter (the speech is not actually slower, just brighter—the pipes are slower to overblow to the octave on higher pressure).10 Gottfried Silbermann took this concept to an extreme with upper lips constructed to extend far in front of the flueway; this virtually required the voicer to raise the languid well above the edge of the lower lip, with the consequence that the timbre became very bright. Snetzler was more moderate in his use of this voicing technique.

But lower mouth heights can also be explained by reduced toe diameters, and we see very consistent and greatly reduced toe diameters for the Snetzler upperwork in Figure 6 where only the wood pipes of the 8′ Diapason and 4′ Flute have generous toes. As we will see later, those wood pipes also have reduced flueways. The reduction in toe diameters in Figure 6 reduces the wind pressure at the mouth of those stops, allowing the use of lower cutups.

Of interest in Figure 6 are Snetzler’s very reduced toes on the 8′ Dulciana stop. This is consistent with the very low mouth heights of this stop in Figure 5, giving the stop low power with significant harmonic overtone structure; Snetzler used box beards to stabilize the speech of the Dulciana. Taken together, this is a very powerful demonstration of Snetzler’s skills in scaling and voicing where he achieves good balances with the metal chorus pipes and the common bass with the Dulciana.

Like the pipe toe, flueway depth controls the flow of wind and strongly correlates to the power and the speed of the speech of the pipe. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 50–63 and 77–82.

In Figure 7 we see very generous flueways for the metal pipes of the Snetzler chorus, while the wood pipes and Dulciana have much more restrained flueways. In the chorus pipes Snetzler is controlling the power balances with scaling and toe diameters, not flueways, a technique more commonly found in classical French voicing. The reduced flueways of Snetzler’s wood Diapason and Flute are more typical of classical Germanic voicing, where power is controlled at the flueway rather than the toe. It is unusual to find a chorus with both voicing styles.

The languids are boldly nicked at an angle in the bass pipes progressing to finer nicks in the higher pitches and ultimately little or no nicking in the highest trebles. Ears are present on pipes up to 1-1⁄3′ pitch and absent at higher pitches. Upper lips are lightly skived to about one half of the metal thickness.

The flow of wind and power balances are controlled by the voicer at the toe and flueway of a pipe. The ratio of the area of the toe to the area of the flueway is important. If the area of the toe is less than the area of the flueway, which is a ratio less than “1,” the speech will be slower. “Slowness” in this instance does not refer to the voicer’s term (which reflects how the voicer adjusts the relative position of the languid and upper lip), but rather to the effect of resistances (toe and flueway areas) and capacitance (volume of the pipe foot) on the rate of the buildup of pressure at the mouth, which in turn affects the buildup of pipe speech to full power. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 56–63 and 114–116, for a discussion of this very important musical characteristic. A well-knit chorus of pipes may have pipes that speak less promptly or pipes that speak more promptly, but never both; a chorus with both would have a confused and ill-defined attack. The effect here is subtle and measured in milliseconds, but the human ear is very sensitive to such fine variations.

The ratio is exactly “1” when the area of the toe and flueway are equal, and this is the normal lower limit for pipes with prompt speech; for example, the vast majority of the principal chorus pipes in the Isnard organ at St. Maximin in the range of 4′ to 1′ pitch exhibit a value of almost exactly “1,” with the highest pitches approaching a value of “3.”

The wood pipes of the 8′ Diapason and 4′ Flute in Figure 8 have ratios far in excess of “1,” and this is another way of looking at Snetzler’s technique for pushing these pipes harder with their narrower mouth widths and narrower flueways. In stark contrast, the Snetzler metal pipes have ratios trending at or well below a value of “1,” suggesting that they speak a bit less promptly. The recording made by Anne Page prior to the restoration demonstrates the full chorus and supports this conclusion. Slightly slower speech is not necessarily a defect, and it can be used to dramatic advantage.

Very rarely do we find anything in the organ literature about voicing, and very rarely do we find documentation with enough data to analyze the voicing of an organ. With William Drake, Ltd.’s data we can understand Snetzler’s voicing and tonal concepts in depth.

Further paths

This short essay cannot begin to do justice to the documentation done by William Drake, Ltd., on the Snetzler organ. Readers are encouraged to visit their website to view their wonderful PDF files.7 The casual reader can simply peruse the photos and notes to see what the inside of an eighteenth-century organ looks like. The motivated organbuilder can fully recreate the Snetzler sound from these notes. This is a gold standard of documentation.

Notes

1. Stephen Bicknell, The History of the English Organ, Cambridge University Press, 1996, Cambridge, p. 174.

2. Ibid, p. 174.

3. Ibid, pp. 203–204.

4. Ibid, pp. 204–206.

5. Anne Page, Fugue in C minor, BWV 575, www.youtube.com/watch?v=slgjVr97FLY. This is a pre-restoration recording made during the 2011–2012 time frame. The volume is set very low in this recording and should be turned up. It is important to keep in mind that the tuning has been modified from its original meantone to something much closer to modern equal temperament.

6. The gravity induced by meantone must be heard to be appreciated. The 1739 Clicquot organ at Houdan is tuned in meantone and may be heard to advantage in the superb new recording reviewed in The Diapason, July 2018, p. 15, Magnificat 1739, Regis Allard, available from www.editionshortus.com. This organ has no 16′ stops, but 16′ tone is strongly evident in the resultants of the pure major thirds.

7. William Drake, Ltd., The Restoration of the 1755 John Snetzler Organ at Clare College, Cambridge, PDF documents accessed August 16, 2016, www.williamdrake.co.uk/portfolio-items/clare-college-cambridge/.

8. The author’s email address is: [email protected].

9. Michael McNeil, The Sound of Pipe Organs, CC&A, 2012, Mead, 191 pp., Organ Historical Society and Amazon.com.

10. The History of the English Organ, p. 178, “Snetzler’s chorus consists of ranks all made to the same scale and voiced at the same power . . . . The speech of the individual pipes is significantly slower than that of earlier generations, and this encourages brightness (as well as facilitating the development of the new string-toned stops). Any tendency of the pipes to spit or scream is controlled by the consistent use of firm, slanted nicking on the languids of the pipes—a hallmark of Snetzler material.” Joost de Boer, the director of William Drake, Ltd., confirmed the use of higher languids and slower speech on the Snetzler pipes in a personal communication in 2018.

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