Heinz Wunderlich—A Remembrance One Year Later

Jay Zoller is the organist at South Parish Congregational Church in Augusta, Maine, where he plays the church’s historic 1866 E. & G. G. Hook organ. He holds degrees from the University of New Hampshire and the School of Theology at Boston University. He is a retired designer for the Andover Organ Company and currently designs for the Organ Clearing House. He resides in Newcastle, Maine with his wife Rachel. Zoller, as a high school student in 1961, was fortunate to hear Heinz Wunderlich play at the Methuen Memorial Music Hall on his first American tour. They began a professional relationship in 1989 when Zoller played in a master class that Wunderlich was giving. Since then, Zoller has studied with Heinz Wunderlich and has performed many of Wunderlich’s organ compositions in recital. In addition to writing several articles about Professor Wunderlich for The American Organist and Choir and Organ magazines, Zoller has played in all-Wunderlich recitals in Hamburg, Germany in 1999 and again in 2004. He plans to participate in the 2009 festivities as well.

Old age for most people means a slowing down and a loss of the abilities they once had. If they are among the few who live to their ninth decade, they usually live a very limited existence.
If they are among the very few, often very gifted, artists who are sustained by their art and who, by force of will, work at their art, they continue to be productive in their chosen field. One thinks of the painter Andrew Wyeth who remained active in his work until he died, and was nourished by his deep roots in Pennsylvania and rural coastal Maine. As a young man, after determining what he was about, he remained true to his calling throughout his life, undeterred by different trends that swirled around him.
Heinz Wunderlich has also been sustained by his roots, which reach back to the music of Max Reger, transmitted to him by his teacher Karl Straube. And, like Wyeth, Professor Wunderlich has remained true to his calling, digging deep into the music of Reger and Bach and carrying that tradition into the 21st century with his own works, despite trends that have gone off in all directions.

Hamburg celebrations in 2009
On April 25, 2009, Heinz Wunderlich will turn 90. As happens every five years for Wunderlich’s birthday, all Hamburg turns out for a festival of recitals. This year is no different.
The first concert is to be at St. Petri on Saturday, April 25, and is an organ recital of Wunderlich’s works played by former students: Dörte Maria Packeiser (Heidenheim), Eva-Maris Sachs (Erlangen), Sirka Schwartz-Uppendieck (Fürth), Izumi Ikeda (Japan), Jay Zoller (USA), and Andreas Rondthaler (Hamburg).
Sunday morning, April 26, Wunderlich’s Ökumenische Messe (2006) under the direction of former student and Director of Music at St. Petri, Thomas Dahl, will receive its premiere. On Tuesday, April 28, Heinz Wunderlich will play a recital at Hauptkirche St. Jacobi where the famous Arp Schnitger organ resides. Wednesday the 29th, back at St. Petri, there will be a concert for chorus, organ, and orchestra that will include the Concerto for Organ and Orchestra on the name of BACH by Heinz Wunderlich. The generous acoustics of both St. Petri and St. Jacobi and the high caliber of the artists involved will make each of these concerts an event to remember.
I have always come away from these concerts in the past with a feeling for the great respect and love that Professor Wunderlich’s former students and his Hamburg audiences have for him. His late wife, the violinist Nelly Söregi-Wunderlich, once told me that when he plays in Hamburg the church is always full. I have found that to be true in the concerts I have attended.
At 90, Heinz Wunderlich continues to compose, play concerts, and prepare his earlier compositions for publication. Retirement for him has only meant a change of emphasis from teaching and church work to writing, recording,
and publishing.

Early life
Paul Arthur Heinz Wunderlich was born in Leipzig on April 25, 1919. At the time of his birth, the First World War had just ended and the Paris Peace Conference was meeting to decide the fate of Europe. Indeed, the Treaty of Versailles was signed a mere two months after his birth. The social upheavals that occurred during the next twenty years before World War II did not radically interrupt his childhood, which was very quiet. However, inflation worsened and by 1929 had affected the whole world economy. There was fear and uncertainty as Hitler made his bid for power. In May 1936, the 17-year-old Wunderlich witnessed the destruction of the Mendelssohn Memorial in front of the Gewandhaus and the loss of jobs that many musicians suffered.
As a young child of five, Wunderlich was traveling on the train with his parents when a faulty door latch let the child fall out of the moving train onto the tracks between two moving trains. His father pulled the brake to stop the train and a doctor who happened to be on board administered to the child until they reached the hospital in Leipzig. The train company was found negligent and made monthly payments to the family.
Wunderlich’s family was musical. On his father’s side were pianists, all the way back to his great-grandfather.

I began taking piano lessons from my father when I was ten. I made progress and one year later began studying piano and composition with Joachim Voigt who was the organist at our church. I grew interested in the organ, and when I was fifteen began studying organ with Mr. Voigt as well. I studied the flute for awhile and, for a little time, the violin also, but I cannot play either now.
My father wanted to study piano at the Hochschule, but couldn’t because he had no money for that. His father was a piano teacher and his father, my great-grandfather, as well as his father, my great, great-grandfather, were all piano teachers. I also had an uncle who was a very good cellist, but he died very young.2

On his mother’s side of the family were musicians also.
My mother played the piano a little bit. She played some with me. My mother’s cousin was a conductor in Prague and my grand aunt from the same family as my mother was a singer. She sang in opera and also got her start in Leipzig.

Musical training
At the age of sixteen, Heinz was accepted into the Academy of Music in Leipzig, earning the distinction of being the youngest student at the famous school. It was there that he began organ study with Karl Straube, who had been a friend and colleague of Max Reger. At sixteen he began his study of and lifelong interest in the music of Max Reger.

We were three, four, five students in one four-hour class with Straube. And so we listened to all of the other students as they played and I played too. We played chorales, preludes, music of Bach, the music of Franck, French music, and also Reger. It was at this time that I began studying Reger. It was required of us. Reger had been a teacher in Leipzig and all of the great organists had come to Leipzig to study with Straube and before with Reger. Reger had been the older generation. He died in 1916 before I was born. But, Reger was required study and his compositions were very important.

Wunderlich also began his study of composition and choral conducting with Johann Nepomuk David. The rigorous training he got from this famous composer has stayed with him.

David was a very famous composer. In my last year, I had to write fugues based on the fugues from the Art of Fugue by Bach. They are complicated fugues with their own themes and we had to write our own themes and double and triple fugues. We began our study with fugues of Palestrina and studied all the old techniques and later on we came to modern music. It was very thorough.

When I asked Wunderlich if he remembered his very first compositions he said, smiling, “Yes, it was before this time, when I was 14 or 15 years old. But, I lost them!”
Another part of his musical training was orchestral conducting with Max Hochkofler. Hochkofler was Germany’s most famous conductor at the time and had many students.
In 1937, at the age of 18, Heinz accepted his first organist position, becoming the second organist at the Petri Church in Leipzig. The organist of this church was the second director of the Music Academy. It was great experience for the young man because he played services and pieces with orchestra. It was during this time, in 1938, that he wrote the Kontrapunktische Chaconne g-Moll.
Wunderlich completed his music degree in 1940, but continued to study with Straube through 1941. His examination was the finest testimonial earned up to that time at the academy: “with distinction in masterly organ performance and improvisation.” It was during these student days that he became widely known, not only for his many recitals, but also as an improviser. Wunderlich was the first student that Straube ever let play the Reger Phantasy, op. 57, in public.

Military service
After his additional year of study with Straube he was appointed Church Music Director at the Moritzkirche in Halle in 1941, a position once held by Samuel Scheidt. The German army drafted him, however, and his job had to wait. It was not a desirable time to be enlisted in the army, but because he had had typhoid as a child, he had problems with his heart. So, he was only fit for home duty. The military was also stationed in Halle and so in the evenings when the other soldiers went to drink beer, he could go to church and practice. He was discharged from the military in 1943.
During his time in the military, though, he studied with Heinrich Fleischer, a good organ teacher, who had also been a student of Straube. Wunderlich wrote the Fuga Variata in 1942 while he was a soldier.

Civilian life in East Germany
Upon completion of his military duties in 1943, Wunderlich began teaching organ and harpsichord at the Church Music School in Halle. It was here at his church where bombs fell just ten days before the end of the war. He was hiding in a basement with some other people, and after one of the bombs exploded on the other side of the wall, they were fortunate to be able to escape through the rubble. When they emerged, everything had been destroyed.
A week after the war ended, Wunderlich played a recital in his church, which had apparently been spared. Since there were no newspapers, they had to put up small handwritten notices. At the recital there were 1,000 people crowded into the church, many of whom could not sit down. It was a very emotional experience for all of them.
The Americans were in Halle until August of 1946, and then, because of Potsdam, it was given to the Russians. An American captain who had attended the recital in Halle later arranged a recital in Washington, D.C. in 1962 or ’63. That same captain was by then a professor of music history in Washington.
In 1946 a drunk Russian soldier stuck his pistol in Wunderlich’s face and demanded his papers, which he then said were forged. Wunderlich was ordered to accompany him, and they met yet another drunken soldier. Fortunately for Wunderlich, a Russian officer happened to see them and ordered the soldiers to go with him. Heinz was able, then, to make his escape.
Wunderlich met his first wife, Charlotte, in about 1943 while he was in Halle, and they married in 1946. It was for her that the Partita on “Macht hoch die Tür” was written in honor of their first Christmas together. They had twin daughters, Uta and Christina, born in 1949, and a third daughter, Ulrike, born in 1951.
In 1948 he wrote the Mixolydische Toccata and, just two years later, for the 200th anniversary of the death of Bach, played the complete organ works of Bach in a series of twenty-one concerts. It was also at this time that he became Overseer of Sacred Music and Organ for churches in the area.

There were 150 churches and I had to teach the organists, some of whom were not very advanced; many were not proficient at all. The organs were in need of repair after the war and I advised on what the organs needed by way of repairs and maintenance. Some needed pipes, it included almost anything. It was interesting.

Escape from East Germany
Wunderlich remained in Halle until 1958. One aspect of life under the communist government was that his career could not advance as rapidly as that of his contemporaries in other countries. He had received a number of offers to teach in the West, but as a church musician he was regarded as an enemy of the state. Although he had played concerts in the West including some at St. Jacobi in Hamburg, he could not get permission to leave the East and would have to do so illegally. The officials in Hamburg had expressed an interest in him, but without permission he could not leave. It was a difficult time for his young family. He had three young daughters, two who were nine and one who was seven. They had to go through Berlin before the wall was put up, and although you could go from east to west all the time, to avoid suspicion they could not travel together. So, Heinz went first; his wife and children came on a later train. Then, they met in West Germany much to the relief of all.
Heinz had sent his music and his books all out of the East the previous year to many different people in the West for safekeeping. And in that way, he was able to save much of the more important things. However, he had an organ and a piano in Halle that had to be left behind.

Professional life in the West
I had the possibility of two positions, one in Dortmund and one in Hamburg. We went first to friends in Dortmund, but after a week I thought, no, this is not the right place for me. It was an academy of music, but I had no organ to practice so it was a problem for me. So then, we went to Hamburg where there were organs and one month later I was the organist at St. Jacobi. They had wanted me to come a half year before since my recital there, but it couldn’t be done any faster.

St. Jacobi is the home of the 1694 Arp Schnitger organ, which was to become famous during succeeding decades. It had been saved from destruction in the Allied bombing of Hamburg by the foresight of church officials who removed the pipes and mechanisms to a safe location.

It was at this time that I met Mr. Howes: Arthur Howes, from Baltimore. I played a recital when he died. He came with the American organbuilder, Charles Fisk, who had built an organ in Baltimore. I showed them all the organs in Hamburg. Mr. Fisk was interested in the pipes and examined them carefully. A year later they invited me to play in America. My first performance was in Baltimore on the new organ and then Mr. Howes arranged for me to play at the Methuen Memorial Music Hall in Methuen, Massachusetts. A year later I came back and did a master class in Andover.

Heinz Wunderlich’s schedule was very busy once he began playing at St. Jacobi. By necessity, he played an important part in overseeing the restoration of the large four-manual Schnitger organ. He established the Kantorei St. Jacobi, a 100-member mixed chorus that sang at services and gave concerts. They had an extensive repertoire ranging from Bach and Mendelssohn to Stravinsky. The choir made several tours under Wunderlich’s direction, including one to the United States in the fall of 1978. Concurrently with the St. Jacobi position, Wunderlich was also Professor of Organ and Improvisation at the College of Music in Hamburg. Wunderlich did much promotional work for the important St. Jacobi organ as well. His recitals devoted to cycles of works by Bach and North German composers; his summer “Schnitgerfest,” a summer series of recitals; his authoring a book about the organ; and hosting the endless stream of visitors to the organ loft, all helped to underscore the importance of the organ.

Max Reger
In the years between 1960 and 1970, Wunderlich oversaw the building of another organ for St. Jacobi that would be ideally suited for 20th-century music and particularly the music of Max Reger. Wunderlich studied the music of Reger with a close friend of Reger, Karl Straube, and as a result is one of the few organists in the world today who is in a direct line of succession with Reger. Reger has remained one of Wunderlich’s passions—performing Reger’s music and writing about him (see The American Organist, March 2002). The year 1973 brought the centenary of Reger’s birth, and during three days of a Reger festival at St. Jacobi, Wunderlich performed all of the large compositions, taught a master class, and directed a festival service. I asked Professor Wunderlich if he played all of Reger’s works.

No, no. He wrote more music than Bach. Look, I have all the works of Reger. [He goes over to a long bookshelf and takes about half the books off one shelf.] His early pieces look easy, but they get more difficult. He also has many unimportant works so you have to see what is important.
With Reger’s pieces there are many problems; there are things which cause misunderstandings. For example, his Allegro should be much slower than an Allegro for other composers. Reger himself says “Don’t play my pieces too fast. The tempos we wrote down are much too fast; play everything quite steadily, even if faster is indicated!”
It is also necessary in Reger that you hear everything. You have to hear every change; that is important. Sometimes the changes occur every 16th note and if it is played too fast, it becomes confusing.

The early years at St. Jacobi were very busy years, and by Wunderlich’s own admission he was unable to compose much:

From 1957 to about 1980 I was very busy with my choir and I played all over the world and I simply did not have time for composition; it was impossible to write pieces. After that, I did not have a choir and, although I taught at the Hochschule, I had more time to compose.
In 1982, Wunderlich lost his wife, Charlotte, to cancer. It was also in that year that he decided to resign his post at St. Jacobi, although he continued to teach at the Hochschule. Wunderlich’s large-scale organ work, Hiroshima, dates from 1978 and is based on a theme given him by György Ligeti. Ligeti, also a professor at Hamburg’s School of Music, would often give Wunderlich themes for his improvisations. This piece is based on one of those themes.

Marriage to Nelly
The two decades following 1982 were productive ones for Wunderlich. He married Nelly Söregi, a violin professor at the School of Music, in November of 1984. Thus began a professional musical relationship that was to span two decades, until Nelly’s untimely death in January of 2004. Nelly was born in Budapest, Hungary and fled to Austria in 1945. Later she was to move to Hamburg, where she taught violin at the Hochschule. Nelly was a concert violinist of international stature, and she and Heinz concertized extensively throughout the world, and also made a number of recordings together. They can be credited with creating an awareness of the organ/violin sonatas of Rheinberger and Kodály.

Compositions
In 1988, Wunderlich wrote the Introduction and Toccata on BACH. In the 1990s there followed Dona nobis pacem, Sonata on Jona, Variationa Twelvetonata (violin and organ), and Emotion and Fugue. The Dona nobis pacem was written for the 1000th anniversary of St. Wolfgang.

The piece commemorated 1000 years after the death of St. Wolfgang. In Germany, he was a famous bishop who worked for freedom for Germany, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary in a bad time of war. I wrote the piece for the Community of St. Wolfgang in Austria.
The original version was written for violin and organ, but Wunderlich also wrote a version for organ solo.
One very interesting piece, a monumental work dating from 1996, is the Sonata über den Psalm Jona. Unlike many of the earlier pieces that are developed around a particular musical form, Jona is a programmatic work dealing with the separation that was Jonah’s when he fled from God. The piece even includes in its preface the plea from Jonah as he lay in the belly of the whale. The piece is terrifying in its impact. However, when I discussed it with Professor Wunderlich, he had this to say,

It is not about a fish! You are born, how would you say, reborn. You are in death and you are reborn anew. It is the story of Christ; the story of Easter.

Concerts and teaching
Heinz Wunderlich is a concert organist of international stature. He has played concerts in virtually every civilized country in the world, including 23 tours in the United States alone. In more recent years he has concertized extensively in former Eastern bloc countries. He has also performed for radio, television, and film. His list of CDs is extensive. As a result, Wunderlich’s name has attracted organ students from all over the world, and that list reads like a Who’s Who in the organ world. Without exception, former organ students found him to be patient and kind and sensitive to their needs. A former American organ student, Nancy Boch-Brzezinski, had a typical response:

I enjoyed him as a teacher because of his musicality. Nothing he ever played was boring or unattainable. He found the fire, excitement and beauty in every piece he played. I learned technically from him by watching him, though my German was not great in the beginning. With music, the language barrier doesn’t get in the way.3
Invariably, students recall Wunderlich’s gentle corrections and his ability to demonstrate the most diverse pieces from the literature at a moment’s notice.

Legacy
His compositions are his legacy to each of us. As one begins to look at these works, one understands the depth and complexities of the music, the devices that the composer uses to such great effect, and the enormous contribution to 20th-century organ literature that is contained in the music. One sees the distance Wunderlich has come from the Romanticism of his teachers and is dazzled by the level where Wunderlich lives and performs. It is a place where most of us only dream. The influence of his organ works for the twentieth century is incalculable.

The music
Heinz Wunderlich has continued to prepare his works for publication. His publisher is Editio Musica Budapest, P.O. Box 322, H-1370, Budapest, Hungary. The works can be obtained through their U.S. agent Boosey & Hawkes, New York.

Heinz Wunderlich list of works
Kontrapunktische Chaconne g-Moll (EMB #Z13944), written in 1938 while still a student in Leipzig. The work is highly chromatic and in three sections, each using the chaconne theme. Free variations alternate with canonic variations in double counterpoint.
Praeludium und Doppelfuge im alten Stil (EMB #Z14246), written in 1939 at the beginning of the war while still a student of David. Both themes of the fugue are anticipated in the prelude, which is a highly canonical work.
Fuga Variata (EMB #Z13942), written in 1942 while Wunderlich was in the army. It owes its inception to Samuel Scheidt’s Variation Fugue. There are eight fugal variations in the Fuga Variata, all based on a four-bar theme. It is mildly chromatic and stays in C major throughout.
Partita über “Macht hoch die Tür” (EMB #Z14331), written in 1946 and dedicated to his first wife, Charlotte; this is a wonderful set of variations on the Advent tune “Fling Wide the Door.”
Mixolydische Toccata über “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ” (EMB #Z13945) was written for Christmas 1948. It is neo-Gregorian in style and contains a complete statement of the chorale. The third section combines the lyrical Gregorian theme with the German chorale.
Orgelsonate über ein Thema (EMB #Z13946) was written in 1956 for Church Day. The three movements make use of the same thematic material, a falling chromatic phrase, albeit in totally different and highly original ways.
Sonata Tremolanda Hiroshima (EMB #Z13947) was written in 1984 and based on a theme given him by Ligeti. The theme was the perpetual mirror-canon from Ligeti’s La Grand Macabre. Two dodecaphonic themes are used in the work, one by Ligeti and the other by Wunderlich. The piece got its name from impressions Wunderlich had while on tour in Japan. He played the first performance in Hiroshima in 1985.
Introduktion und Toccata über Namen B-A-C-H (EMB #Z13943). Wunderlich wrote this mono-thematic work in 1988. Reminiscent of Liszt, it makes continual use of dynamic contrast. This piece was also arranged in 1990 by the composer for organ and orchestra (EMB #Z13948).
Konzert für Orgel und Orchester über den Namen B-A-C-H (Z.13948), written for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 bassoons, 3 trumpets in C, 2 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, 2 violins, viola, cello, contrabass, and organ, is based on Wunderlich’s Introduktion und Toccata über den Namen B-A-C-H for organ. However, it is a much enlarged score at more than twice the length of its corresponding piece for organ.
Invocatio “Dona nobis pacem” (organ solo version EMB #Z14039; violin and organ version EMB Z.14038). This prayer for peace was written in January 1993 especially for his wife, violinist Nelly Söregi-Wunderlich, and they have recorded it on an Organum Classics CD. A haunting melody opens and ends the work with a tremendous climax in the middle.
Sonata über den Psalm Jona (EMB #Z14108) was completed in 1996 and is based on a double twelve-note row. This programmatic work is in two sections—the first a cry of distress from the belly of the whale, and the second longer movement a ferocious toccata ending with a statement of the Easter hymn “Christ is risen.”
Variationa Twelvetonata (EMB #Z14325), written in October 1998, was dedicated to his wife Nelly Söregi-Wunderlich. This very expressive piece is for violin and organ and is an important addition to the literature for that combination. It is very expressive and contrasts the violin with differing colors of the organ.
Emotion und Fuge per augmentationem et diminutione (EMB #Z14364), written in 2002, follows the traditional organ form of prelude and fugue. Based on a theme given him by his teacher, Johann Nepomuk David, in 1940, it consists of ten notes in a chromatically descending line. The fugue contains this theme in its purest form. In the prelude, Wunderlich combines it with a theme of his own devising. Augmentation and diminuation are used throughout.

These works constitute the organ works of Heinz Wunderlich. He has, however, quite a large list of works for other combinations of instruments. A few that I am aware of are:

Graduale für Solo, kleinen Chor und Orgel (EMB #Z14365)
Kanonische Variationen für Klavier vierhändig
“Ein Psalm der Liebe” Variationen für Klavier (Hausmusik)
Introduktion und Chaconne über ein Zwölftonthema für Violine
Chaconne über ein Zwölftonthema für Flöte
Volkstümliches gesungenes Krippenspiel für Soli und Chor
Kantate “Erschienen ist der herrlich Tag” für Chor und Orchester
Kantate “Es kommt ein Schiff, geladen” für Chor, Blockflöte, und Streicher (Bären-
reiter-Verlag)
Weihnachtsgeschichte für Solo und Chor (Bärenreiter-Verlag)
Oratorium “Maranatha” zum Osterfest für Soli, Chöre und Orchester (Bärenreiter-Verlag 2111)
5 Motetten für Chor a cappella (Editio Musica Budapest)
Gesang der drei Männer im Feuerofen für Solo, Chor und Orgel
Kantate “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ” für Solo, Chor und Orgel
7 Chorsätze (VEB Verlag Hofmeister Leipzig)
Ökumenische Messe für gemischten Chor (for mixed voices) (Editio Musica Budapest Z. 14 509)

Sally Cherrington Beggs, chair of the music department and college organist at Newberry College, Newberry, South Carolina, died March 17. Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania
in 1959, she received her undergraduate education at Susquehanna University, and master’s and doctoral degrees at Yale University, where she studied with Thomas Murray and Charles Krigbaum. While at Yale she won the Charles Ives Organ Prize and the Faculty Award from the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, and was named the Frank Bozyan Organ Scholar from 1989 to 1991. An instructor in organ at Yale as well as the minister of music at the First Congregational Church in Wallingford, Connecticut, she had served as staff organist and teacher for the Allen Organ Company.

Cherrington relocated to South Carolina in 2000 from the Chicago area, where she served for ten years as director of music at St. Luke’s Lutheran Church in Park Ridge, and as college organist and adjunct faculty at Elmhurst College. She served as a substitute organist throughout the Columbia area, including at Aveleigh Presbyterian in Newberry and St. Francis of Assisi Episcopal Church in Chapin, and as a part-time organist at St. Stephen’s Lutheran Church in Lexington. She had performed recitals and conducted workshops throughout the eastern seaboard and Midwest, including at two OHS conventions, as well as making several concert tours of Europe as a soloist or accompanist. Dr. Cherrington had articles published in The Diapason, Your Church, Grace Notes, and CrossAccent; her article on “Organ Pedagogy” appears in the new International Organ Encyclopedia published by Routledge. Sally Cherrington Beggs is survived by her husband of 19 years, Mike Beggs, sons Zachary and Nathan, and sisters Linda Svok and Peggy Reese.

David Craighead died March 26 in Rochester, New York, at the age of 88, after a long and distinguished career as a recitalist and as professor of organ at the Eastman School of Music. Craighead joined the Eastman faculty in 1955 and served as professor of organ and chair of the organ division of the keyboard department until his retirement in 1992. He was also organist of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Rochester from 1955 to 2003. He was named Professor Emeritus at Eastman and Organist Emeritus at St. Paul’s when he retired. 

A renowned recitalist, David Craighead performed throughout the United States and Europe. He played in seven national conventions of the American Guild of Organists as well as at International Congresses held in London, Philadelphia, and Cambridge, England. He made several recordings, including one with his wife, Marian Reiff Craighead, to whom he was married for 47 years. Until her death in May 1996, they presented concerts for organ duet in numerous cities across the United States.

“David Craighead’s contribution to the music world is incalculable,” said David Higgs, Professor and Chair of Organ and Historical Keyboards. “He was a virtuoso performer, able to make the most difficult technical passages seem easy; he was a tireless champion of new music for our instrument, having played the first performances of many of the pieces that are now in our standard repertoire; and a beloved teacher, mentor, and friend to the legions of students he taught in his 37 years as professor of organ and chair of the organ department here.”

Craighead received both teaching and performance honors. In 1974, the Eastman School of Music awarded him its first Eisenhart Award for Teaching Excellence. The New York City AGO chapter named him International Performer of the Year in 1983. He received honorary doctorates from Lebanon Valley College and Duquesne University, where he also served as adjunct professor of organ. He also was awarded an honorary Fellowship in the Royal College of Organists, London, England.

In 2008, the new organ in Rochester’s Christ Church was inaugurated as the Craighead-Saunders Organ, named in honor of Professor Craighead and Russell Saunders, who was professor of organ at Eastman from 1967 until 1992.

Born on January 24, 1924, in Strasburg, Pennsylvania, David Craighead was the son of a Presbyterian minister and received his first music lessons from his mother, an organist. He was awarded his Bachelor of Music degree in 1946 from the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, where he also was the organist of the Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church. While still at Curtis, he was a touring recitalist and taught at Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, during his senior year.

In 1944 he was accepted as a touring recitalist by Concert Management Bernard R. LaBerge, which is now Karen McFarlane Artists, making his first transcontinental tour shortly after. 

Craighead was appointed organist at the Pasadena Presbyterian Church, where he helped design the church’s organ and did bi-weekly organ recital broadcasts. He also taught in the music department of Occidental College from 1948 through 1955 before his appointment to the Eastman School of Music.

Recordings include a 1968 Artisan LP disc of compositions by Franck, Mendelssohn, and Messiaen; and two recordings for the Crystal Record Company (one of works of Samuel Adler, Paul Cooper, and Lou Harrison; the second, The King of Instruments by William Albright and Sonata for Organ by Vincent Persichetti). He also made two recordings for Gothic, one of late nineteenth-century American composers, and the other of Albright’s Organbook I and Organbook III. The most recent recording, for Delos, features Reger’s Second Sonata and Vierne’s Symphony VI.

David Craighead is survived by his children, James R. Craighead and Elizabeth C. Eagan; grandsons Christopher and Jeffrey Eagan; his sister-in-law and three great-granddaughters.

Father Larry Heiman, a member of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood (C.PP.S.), died in his sleep on February 26, in the infirmary at St. Charles Center, Carthagena, Ohio. Born in 1917, he entered his religious community in 1932 and graduated from St. Joseph’s College in Rensselaer, Indiana, in 1940. Soon after ordination, he began teaching music and drama at St. Joseph’s College; he spent most of his life teaching at this institution. In summer 1960, he initiated a summer program that would become the Rensselaer Program of Church Music and Liturgy. Father Heiman completed graduate studies at the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music in Rome, earning his doctorate in 1970, and returned to Rensselaer to establish a similar education program in Gregorian chant and polyphony. 

Father Heiman served the National Association of Pastoral Musicians as a frequent contributor to Pastoral Music, as a speaker at NPM conventions, and as the calendar editor for Pastoral Music from 1976 until his “retirement.” NPM honored Father Heiman with its Jubilate Deo Award in 2002. 

Joseph Johann Karl Ritter II, organbuilder, age 70, died March 19, 2011, at Cape May Court House, New Jersey. Born in Clinton, Illinois, he was trained in structural engineering and industrial mechanics, and his interest in organbuilding began as an outgrowth of these disciplines. In 1973, he took possession of a 1905 II/15 Hinners tracker from a closed Baptist church in Clinton. He disassembled and reassembled the instrument two times in situ, and twice more after relocating to Ft. Pierce, Florida (where he worked for a small marine engineering company) and Green Creek, New Jersey, successively. While maintaining his full-time career in heavy industry, he began the study of organbuilding, with a focus on case design, structural layout, and 20th-century electro-pneumatic windchest design.

After settling in Green Creek in the early 1980s, Ritter converted a large portion of his workshop facilities to organ work, including woodworking, pipe repair, leathering, windchest construction, electrical wiring, and fabrication of structural and winding components. At this time he built a III/12 unit organ in his private studio. This instrument was combined with a full 35mm Simplex movie projector, screen, and seating for eight. In 1997 he began a long association with the firm of Russell Meyer & Associates of Bridgeton, New Jersey, becoming shop foreman, and was involved in the construction and installation of ten of the firm’s instruments.

In retirement, at the time of his death, Ritter was involved in a substantial remodeling of his home, which involved conversion of a room into an organ chamber, into which he was in the process of installing Midmer-Losh Opus 5025, a five-rank unit organ, and had begun work on expanding it to an expected ten ranks. 

Heinz Wunderlich, organ virtuoso, teacher, and composer, died on March 10, 2012, in Großhandsdorf, Germany, at the age of 92. He was predeceased by his first wife, Charlotte, in 1982, and by his second wife, the violinist Nelly Söregi Wunderlich, in 2004. He is survived by three daughters and a stepson.

Wunderlich’s early study was with his father and the local church organist. At the age of sixteen, he was admitted to the Academy of Music in Leipzig, where he was the youngest student. While he was studying with Karl Straube and Johann Nepomuk David, his lifelong interest in the music of Max Reger began. Despite growing up and living in the tumultuous time between the First and Second World Wars, he held prestigious positions and became well known for his many recitals and improvisations. Since he was trapped in the East, his career could not advance until he was able to escape in 1958 with his wife and daughters. He took the position of music director at St. Jacobi in Hamburg, where he oversaw the reconstruction of the well-known Arp Schnitger organ, which had been removed during the war. For many years he was also Professor of Organ and Improvisation at the Hamburg College of Music, where he met his second wife.

As he began to concertize throughout the world, including several tours with his choir, the Kantorei St. Jacobi, his fame grew exponentially. In the United States alone he made twenty-six tours. Students came from all over the world to study with him—many to study the works of Max Reger, as Wunderlich was one of the few musicians who was in a direct line of succession with Reger. 

Wunderlich leaves quite an extensive body of organ works, as well as choral music. He remained active as a recitalist until his 91st year, when he decided not to play any more. (See “Heinz Wunderlich at 90,” by Jay Zoller, The Diapason, April 2009, pp. 19–21; “80th Birthday Tribute—Heinz Wunderlich,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1999, p. 18; “Heinz Wunderlich at 74,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1994, p. 6; and “The Published Organ Works of Heinz Wunderlich,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1994, pp. 12–13.)

—Jay Zoller

Harpsichord Plus: 

The Accompanied Music 

of Jacques Duphly

As a genre, accompanied harpsichord music seems to have come into being early in the 18th century. Indeed, the harpsichord accompanied by lute is commented on late in the 17th century when the lutenist Porion accompanied the keyboardist Hardel. In Rome the harpsichord accompanied by violin was noted in 1727 at Cardinal Colonna’s, and only two years later, in 1729, there was a similar event in Paris, for which the keyboardist was none other than François Couperin’s daughter.

The first examples to appear in print seem to have been the Pièces de Claveçin en Sonates, op. 3, of Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville (1734). (Earlier works sometimes cited as examples of this genre—works by Dieupart [1701] and Elizabeth Jacquet de la Guerre [1707]—actually appear to be different editions of the same pieces, not meant to be played as duos.) Mondonville’s sonatas were followed by Michel Corrette’s Sonates pour le Claveçin avec un Accompagnement de Violon, op. 25 (1742); Mondonville’s Pièces de Claveçin avec Voix ou Violon, op. 5 (1748); and by the one popular group of compositions still found in the active performing repertoire of the 21st century, Jean-Philippe Rameau’s five sets of Pièces de Claveçin en Concert, published in 1741. That these Rameau pieces belong to this same line of publications cannot be doubted, for the composer wrote in his preface: “The success of recently published sonatas, which have come out as harpsichord pieces with a violin part, has given me the idea of following much the same plan in the new harpsichord pieces, which I am venturing to bring out today . . .”

A little further on Rameau continued: “These pieces lose nothing by being played on the harpsichord alone; indeed, one would never suspect them capable of any other adornment . . .”

This primacy of the harpsichord, which really was meant to be accompanied by the other instrument, is borne out by the words of Charles Avison, who, in 1756, insisted that the violins should “always be subservient to the harpsichord,” and by C.-J. Mathon de la Coeur, the editor of Almanach Musical, who wrote in 1777,

We cannot resist pointing out here that the harpsichord is the only creature in this world that has been able to claim sufficient respect from other instruments to keep them in their place and cause itself to be accompanied in the full sense of the term. Voices, even the most beautiful ones, lack this privileged position; they are covered mercilessly . . . but as soon as it is a question of accompanying a harpsichord, you see submissive and timid instrumentalists softening their sounds like courtiers in the presence of their master, before whom they dare not utter a word without having read permission in his eyes. 

Methinks times have changed since M. de la Coeur published these comments!

Why, then, one might ask, would another instrumentalist agree to perform with a harpsichordist in such a subservient manner? And further, what was the purpose of having an accompanying instrumentalist there at all? As to the first question, one could assume that not all pieces on a program would be of the accompanied type; some sonatas for the solo instrument with (or without) a figured basso continuo could return a preeminent position to the non-keyboard instrument. As for the second question, Avison answers this in the preface to his op. 7 (1760): “They are there to help the expression.”

The second half of the 18th century was a transitional time when the fortepiano was making ever deeper inroads into the public awareness, when the abrupt dynamic contrasts of a C. P. E. Bach or the Mannheim composers were popular, and every possible device or gimmick was being invented and employed to aid the harpsichord in producing more dynamic variety: pedal-activated machine stops, the soft leather “plectra” of the peau de buffle register, organ-like foot-pedal-operated louvers that were installed above the soundboard, and instrumental accompaniment.

The six accompanied pieces of Jacques Duphly have been played less frequently than his other harpsichord works because they were omitted from Heugel’s 1967 Le Pupitre volume of his “complete” harpsichord pieces. A modern edition of the three G-major pieces with violin had been published in Paris in 1961, but the additional three in F major were not generally available to contemporary players until the Swiss publisher Minkoff offered its facsimile edition of Duphly’s Third Book of Harpsichord Pieces in 1987. My attention was drawn to these six enhanced works when reviewing the four compact discs that comprise Yannick Le Gaillard’s complete recording of Duphly’s output, in which he included all six of the “added violin” pieces in collaboration with violinist Ryo Terakado (ADDA 581097/100, 1988). 

For those to whom Duphly is not a household name, the composer was born in Rouen in 1715 and had the exquisite good taste to die in Paris in 1789 immediately before the aristocratic world in which he functioned was totally upended by the French Revolution. One gets a succinct picture of this minor master of the keyboard from two contemporaries. Pierre-Louis Daquin wrote in 1752: “. . . Duflitz [sic] passes in Paris for a very good harpsichordist. He has much lightness of touch and a certain softness which, sustained by ornaments, marvelously render the character of the pieces.” Marpurg, writing in 1754, has passed on to us this portrait of a rather particular character who obviously preferred light action for his keyboards: “Duphly, a pupil of Dagincour, plays the harpsichord only, in order, as he says, not to spoil his hand with the organ. He lives in Paris, where he instructs the leading families.”

Duphly had published his first two books of harpsichord music in 1744 and 1748. These volumes did not include any accompanied pieces, but his third book (1758) begins with three works in the new style. (It must have been taken for granted at this time that one could play either with or without the accompanying instrument, for nothing that mentions the added partner is noted on the title page, or elsewhere.) The accompanied pieces simply appeared with a third staff added above the usual two for the harpsichord; the word Violon is engraved above this additional staff.

The first three accompanied pieces, in F major, present varied tonal pictures. Number one is an Ouverture that begins with a Grave in the customary dotted rhythm, continues with a livelier contrapuntal section, and ends with a two-measure stately cadence. Two character pieces follow: La De May is a gracious rondo named for Reine DeMay, a midwife who played some role in a shady enterprise involving Casanova and the Parisian banker Pouplinière. There is, however, nothing particularly shady about this delicate, rather sunny piece. The third piece, La Madin, is an Italianate gigue, named in honor of the Abbé Henri Madin, choirmaster of the Chapelle Royal and governor of the musical pages. It may be a reference to these youngsters that informs the playful character of this quick-paced work.

That these pieces are worth restoring to the repertoire is not in doubt. Indeed, all of Duphly’s pieces are worthwhile for reasons admirably articulated by Gustav Leonhardt, one of the first modern harpsichordists to champion these French works. In notes to a disc of solo works by the pre-revolutionary composer, Leonhardt wrote, “. . . Duphly’s pieces concealed within their notes the secret of sonority. Such a style of composition demands as much expert knowledge as writing difficult or bizarre works. The perfect always seems easy in the eyes of the non-initiated.”

Duphly’s third volume continues with the very best of his solo harpsichord compositions—the F-minor rondeau La Forqueray, a monumental F-major-minor-major Chaconne, the turbulent and virtuose Medée, winsome and moving D-major Les Grâces, the rocket-themed D-minor La De Belombre, and two graceful Menuets. Then comes the G-major accompanied set—three character pieces, all in quick tempi, titled La De Casaubon, La Du Tailly, and La De Valmallette, the latter two both known Parisian vocalists. The volume concludes with five more solo harpsichord pieces in various keys.

In revisiting the Le Gaillard recordings I found them to be somewhat superficial and too unyielding for my current tastes. Searching the web to see if there were some more recent recordings I came across two that were of interest: a disc of accompanied works by Duphly and the very young Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whose earliest-known keyboard sonatas (K. 6–9) belong to the accompanied harpsichord genre, recorded at the Musée des Beaux Arts, Chartres, by harpsichordist Violaine Cochard and violinist Stéphanie-Marie Degand (Agogique AGO009, 2010). Online reviewer Johan van Veen wrote of this recent offering, “Considering that the Duphly pieces are not often recorded and that Mozart’s sonatas are too often—if at all—played on rather inappropriate instruments, this disc deserves an enthusiastic reception.”

A recording entirely devoted to works by Duphly receives my highest recommendation: harpsichordist Medea Bindewald, whose playing demonstrates the most satisfying musicality, with just the right amount of agogic give and take, is joined by violinist Nicolette Moonen on the German label Coviello Classics (CD COV91404). Recorded during August 2013 in Swithland, UK, here is a first-rate program selected from three of the four Duphly volumes, played from the original engraved texts (the same scores that I recommend, all four volumes of which are available in the series of Performers’ Facsimiles published by Broude Brothers). Ms. Bindewald lists Robert Hill (Freiburg) and Ketil Haugsand (Cologne) among her teachers, so it is not completely surprising that she plays a magnificent instrument built by another Hill brother, the American harpsichord maker Keith Hill. I was charmed and delighted throughout the ample hour-and-a-quarter of this well-chosen recital. Only occasionally did I wish that the violin were slightly less prominent in its balance with the harpsichord. After all, the bow was meant to accompany the keyboard! (Thank you, Mr. Avison and M. Mathon de la Coeur!)

When I first spoke about Duphly to a Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society gathering at Salem College in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, on April 6, 1991, I began by expressing appreciation to the author who had already published most of the information offered here. Once again, I need to share my gratitude to this pioneering scholar of French early keyboard music, Professor Emeritus David Fuller, from the State University of New York at Buffalo, whose research and writings have formed the basis not only of my own presentations, but, as I have noticed in researching the topic, nearly everyone else’s. As the authority who published “Accompanied Keyboard Music” in the journal Musical Quarterly (60:2, April 1974, pp. 222–245), as well as the subsequent articles on Duphly and the Accompanied Sonata in the New Grove Dictionary of Music, Fuller has been both leader and guide for Duphly studies. I came to know David better when I was asked to write his biography for the American Grove, and also when we “shared” a harpsichord major student, Lewis Baratz, who, after completing his undergraduate study with Professor Fuller, graced the master of music program in harpsichord at Southern Methodist University, before going on to earn his doctorate in musicology.

And I cannot think of, or play, Duphly’s music without remembering a beloved mixed-breed pet—part Dachshund, part Lhasa Apso—who loved to listen to the harpsichord, usually unaccompanied. Adopted from the local SPCA animal shelter, where his name was listed as “Blue,” he shared our Dallas lives for the larger part of two decades, during which time he seemed at ease with the more distinctive name I had chosen for him. ν

Comments or questions are always welcome. Please send them to [email protected] or Dr. Larry Palmer, 10125 Cromwell Drive, Dallas, TX 75229.

The University of Michigan 52nd Conference on Organ Music presented works ranging from the 16th-century organ Mass Missa Kyrie fons bonitatis, to the world premiere of Three Pieces for Organ by Czech composer Jirí Teml, along with a new event—an improvisation competition

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song are available through Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts. 

Gale Kramer, DMA, is organist emeritus of Metropolitan United Methodist Church in Detroit, Michigan, and a former assistant professor of organ at Wayne State University. As a student and graduate of the University of Michigan he has attended no fewer than 44 of the annual conferences on organ music. He is a regular reviewer and occasional contributor to The Diapason. His article, “Food References in the Short Chorales of Clavierübung III,” appeared in the April 1984 issue of The Diapason.

The University of Michigan 52nd Conference on Organ Music took place September 30–October 3. The annual conference is organized by Marilyn Mason, who has brought world-class performers and scholars to Ann Arbor for some 51 years. The conference offered a feast of sounds, from the 16th-century organ Mass Missa Kyrie fons bonitatis, to the world premiere of Three Pieces for Organ by Czech composer Jirí Teml; performers ranged in age from “twenty-somethings” to seasoned veterans. This year’s conference inaugurated a new event—an improvisation competition. The five contestants dazzled the audience with their ingenuity, creativity, and ability to transform a simple melody into new music. As Michael Barone commented, “The organ is a magnificent creation, but it only comes alive when people play it.” 

Sunday, September 30

4 pm, Hill Auditorium

The opening event, Kipp Cortez’s master’s degree recital, signaled the excellence and vitality that were to mark the entire conference. His formidable technique was apparent in his program: Carillon by Leo Sowerby; Prelude, adagio et choral varié sur le thème du ‘Veni Creator’, op. 4, by Maurice Duruflé (the performance was enhanced by the singing of the Gregorian hymn by St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church compline ensemble, directed by Deborah Friauff); Les Corps Glorieux (Le mystère de la Sainte Trinité, VII) by Olivier Messiaen; Rhapsody in D-flat Major, op. 17, no. 1, by Herbert Howells; and Variations sur un vieux Noël by Marcel Dupré. The latter was a tour de force. The crowd stood and cheered his playing. 

8 pm, Hill Auditorium

Almut Roessler, the renowned interpreter of Messiaen’s organ works, was scheduled to perform; however, due to circumstances beyond her control, she had to cancel her U.S. tour only two weeks before the conference. David Wagner was chosen to play the concert in her place. He was a great choice: a native Michigander, born and raised in Detroit, a sought-after recitalist, a well-known radio personality, and professor of music and university organist at Madonna University in Livonia, Michigan. He is the program director and music host of the classical music station WRCJ-FM in Detroit. He opened and closed his recital with William Mathias’s Processional (1964) and Recessional—pieces that exploited the instrument’s broad and rich spectrum of colors. Dr. Dave “the artist” and Dr. Dave “the raconteur” delighted the crowd with four centuries of organ music and commentary, explaining the connection between these disparate works: Versets on Veni Creator Spiritus by Nicolas de Grigny; Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582, by J. S. Bach; and Sonata No. 1, op. 42, by Alexandre Guilmant. These composers are linked together by fortuitous events. Wagner pointed out that while no autograph copies from de Grigny exist, we have J. S. Bach’s hand-copied manuscript of de Grigny. He also related that in 1908 Guilmant directed the first publication of de Grigny’s organ works and that Guilmant played the basis of his Symphony No. 1 on the organ built by the Farrand & Votey Company in 1893 for the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, which was purchased by the University of Michigan in 1894 and has since been named the Frieze Memorial Organ. It was rebuilt and reconditioned by the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company of Boston and resides in Hill Auditorium. 

Tuesday, October 2

Michael Barone, host of Pipedreams, presented a fascinating pastiche of recordings culled from his vast library in his lecture, “Imagining the Future, Celebrating the Past.” He presented organ music by contemporary composers who are stretching the boundaries of old forms, combining other instruments with the organ, and implementing Danish and Norwegian folk songs, jazz, and blues in new ways. Barone played numerous examples of intriguing new music for the organ that finds inspiration in J. S. Bach and old hymn tunes.

The first composer on his list of “cutting edge” composers was Henry Martin, who teaches composition at Rutgers University; he received the 1991 National Composers Competition and the Barlow International Composition Competition in 1998 for his Preludes and Fugues for Piano. Barone commissioned him to compose organ preludes and fugues in G major and E minor for the 25th anniversary concert of Pipedreams that took place at the 2008 AGO convention in Minneapolis; Ken Cowan premiered the works. Since then Barone has commissioned preludes and fugues in D major and B minor, which Cowan premiered in 2009; Prelude and Fugue in E Major, premiered by Isabelle Demers in 2012; and Stephen Tharp has agreed to premiere the next set of preludes and fugues. 

Henry Martin’s “new music” interjects jazz, burly elements of dissonance, kaleidoscopic colors, and shifting textures into the constructs of the preludes and fugues of Bach’s Well Tempered Clavier. In his Prelude and Fugue in G Major the virtuosic demands are apparent in the perpetual motion of the prelude and the driving intensity of the fugue.  

To illustrate the pulsing life of organ music today, Barone played many recordings of live improvisations as well as new music. This list includes only a few of the recordings presented: Gunnar Idenstam, Folkjule: A Swedish Folk Song Christmas and Songs for Jukksjarvi: Swedish Folk Songs; Matt Curlee/Neos Ensemble of jazz-styled arrangements for organ, violin, vibraphone, and drums; Barbara Dennerlein playing jazz on the pipe organ; and Monte Mason, Psalm 139 for choir, organ and electronics.

Barone continued by pointing out that Paul Winter in his Winter Solstice concerts at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine uses the organ as the bedrock of his composition, and that Cameron Carpenter, playing in the Royal Albert Hall in London at end of the Olympics, stretched the boundaries of organ composition and made us feel as uncomfortable as Bach’s contemporaries were with him. Barone admonished us to find new audiences for the organ, to go beyond all the wonderful pieces we know, and explore the huge amount of repertoire that’s not played and can be adapted “if you push the right crescendo pedal.”

One of the most enlightening and entertaining events of the conference was Steven Ball’s lecture/recital, “Introduction to the Theater Organ,” given at the Michigan Theater, which proudly houses a 1927 Barton theater organ, the oldest unaltered organ in Ann Arbor. Steven Ball wears several hats—organist at the Michigan Theater, University of Michigan carillonneur, and manager of the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments, as well as director of music at the Catholic Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Detroit. 

Ball began his presentation with a quiz. We were given the specifications of four pipe organs and asked to identify the country of origin, location, builder, date, and whether it was a theater organ. The last question was difficult: how can you tell from the specifications if the organ is a theater organ? The answer is, you can’t! Dr. Ball’s lecture was fueled by the criteria applied to the selection of each of the 2,500 instruments in the Stearns Collection: i.e., each piece was chosen to show how instruments evolve, aid in the study of organology, and promote the understanding of world cultures and music.

Ball explained what happens when a musical instrument evolves, and pointed out there is a cultural relevance and progression accompanying this evolution. (1) There is a dialogue between builders and composers. When the Barker Lever was introduced in 1837 to the organ at St. Denis, an envelope was being pushed, facilitating the composition of new organ music. (2) Change is marked by acoustical evolution: sound gets louder and the compass expands. He noted that the theater organ was specifically voiced and designed to duplicate the sounds of an orchestra, and using analog technology first produced what we know as “surround sound.” (3) As instruments evolve, they become more vocal in nature—organ students are constantly told to let the music “breathe.”

Steven Ball offered a brief history of the theater organ, commenting that Robert Hope-Jones created more patents for the theater organ than anyone. He invented the Tibia Clausa, stoptabs instead of drawknobs, increased the wind pressures (ranging from 10 to 50 inches), and enclosed the pipes behind walls and thick swell shades for greater expression. The merger of his company with Wurlitzer in 1914 ended in disappointment and led to his suicide in 1915. In 1927 Wurlitzer cranked out an organ a day for a demanding market, and organists were paid for playing in the theater.

The Michigan Theater organ, opus 245, was built in 1927 by the Barton Company, which employed 150 people, taught students to play, and placed them in theaters throughout the Midwest. The instrument is only one of 40 that exists in its original home with its original operating system intact, which includes combination action and console lift. 

Steven Ball also proved to be the consummate entertainer. For 30 minutes we watched “One Week,” a silent film starring Buster Keaton, while he improvised on the Barton organ. What fun to watch and hear the misadventures of Buster Keaton in high style. 

Improvisation competition

For the first time in the conference’s long history, an improvisation competition was included. One could feel the excitement as the audience filed into the sanctuary of St. Francis of Assisi Church for the final round. The sacred space, with its live acoustic and three-manual, 1994 Létourneau Opus 38, provided a perfect venue for the competition. The five finalists were chosen from a preliminary round based on submitted recordings. Judges of the preliminary round included Joanne Vollendorf Clark, Gale Kramer, and Darlene Kuperus. The judges for the final round were Karel Paukert, William Jean Randall, and Pamela Ruiter-Feenstra. 

The five finalists were given 30 minutes without an instrument to plan their improvisation, which was to combine a prelude, a toccata, or a fantasia with a fugue on the tune Picardy, and also include a free improvisation on a given theme. Their complete performance time was to last no more that 15 minutes.  

It was intriguing to listen to each competitor’s treatment of the themes, to hear music composed before us with marvelous fluidity and agility. We heard borrowings from the medieval ages to the present. No one envied the judges.  

Bálint Karosi was awarded the Earl Moore first prize of $3,000; Timothy Tikker was awarded the Palmer Christian second prize of $2,000; Naki Sung Kripfgans the Robert G. Glasgow third prize of $1,000; and Steven Hoffman and Matthew Samelak the runner-up prizes of $500.

The behind-the-scenes organizer, Michele Johns, and her committee of Gale Kramer, Darlene Kuperus, and Marcia Van Oyen did a superb job in planning this remarkable event.

8 pm, Hill Auditorium

It was a privilege to hear Karel Paukert perform Czech organ music as well as pieces that embody the spirit of improvisation. His program gave ample evidence that the repertoire for organ is crossing new boundaries, using colors and timbres in new ways. His playing of Frammenti by Karel Husa (b. 1921), Toccata and Fugue in F Minor by Bedrich Antonín Wiedermann (1884–1951), and Adagio and Postludium from Glagolitic Mass by Leos Janácek (1854–1951) was infused with rare sensitivity and energy. He played cutting edge music by Jirí Teml (b. 1963) and Greg D’Alessio (b. 1963) with the same intensity. We were honored to hear Paukert play the world premiere of Jirí Teml’s Three Pieces for Organ.  

Paukert’s choice of “Albion II” from Albion by Greg D’Alessio was a shining example of what can emerge in organ repertoire when tapping into the resources made available in the digital age. Paukert played a score for organ and electronic tape with sounds, he explained, “derived from the electronically processed tonal palette of the McMyler Organ by Holtkamp at the Cleveland Museum of Art.” This piece for organ and electronic accompaniment is definitely New Age music; spellbinding magic resulted by combining digitally manipulated with acoustic sounds of the pipe organ. He concluded his concert with two well-known works, both of which are improvisatory in character and spirit: Jehan Alain’s Deuxième Fantaisie and Franz Liszt’s Prelude and Fugue on the Name of B.A.C.H.

Wednesday, October 3 

9:30 am, Blanche Anderson Moore Hall

The 16th-century organ Mass, Missa Kyrie fons bonitatis, was performed by students of Professor James Kibbie: Andrew Earhart and Colin Knapp, with chants sung by Joseph Balistreri. The score will be published by Wayne Leupold in 2013 and is the culmination of ten years of research by Scott Hyslop.   

The performance was followed by Scott Hyslop’s lecture, “Pierre Attaingnant: The Royal Printer and the Organ Masses of 1531.” Hyslop’s interest in classical French music was the basis for his doctoral thesis. His continued work on the topic is about to see its fruition in his publication of the performance edition of Attaingnant’s Missa Kyrie fons bonitatis. Hyslop explained that it was a unique accomplishment for Attaingnant to be able to print three items (staff lines, notes, and text) simultaneously and that in 1537 Attaingnant became the official printer and book seller to King Francis I of France. Unlike the popular Missa Cunctipotens, the Missa Kyrie fons bonitatis contains the Credo, which agrees with Paris usage. The new edition will include an accessible essay on musica ficta written by Kimberly Marshall. 

2 pm, Hill Auditorium, 

lower lobby

Renate McLaughlin, a graduate student of Marilyn Mason, lectured on “Karg-Elert: a musician at the wrong place and the wrong time.” She documented events in the life of the composer that had a negative influence in keeping him from enjoying the recognition he deserved during his lifetime. She presented interesting biographical details that showed him to be out of touch with reality and a man lacking in common sense. Her question of why his dreams of fame and glory were never realized was answered in her lecture topic. 

3 pm, Hill Auditorium 

The students of James Kibbie played Symphonie No. 6 in G Minor, op. 42, no. 2, by Charles-Marie Widor. His students gave polished performances. The performers and the movements they played were: Colin Knapp (Allegro), Matthew Kim (Adagio), Matthew Dempsey (Intermezzo), Stephanie Yu (Cantabile), and Andrew Lang (Finale). 

8 pm, Hill Auditorium

Timothy Tikker, a doctoral candidate studying with Professor Marilyn Mason, programmed an interesting mix of well-known and lesser-known repertoire. Well-known pieces included Mendelssohn’s Sonata in B-flat Major, op. 65, no. 4; J. S. Bach’s Partite diverse sopra il Corale Sei gegrüsset, Jesu gütig, BWV 768; Max Reger’s Toccata and Fugue in d/D, op. 59, nos. 5 and 6; and Messiaen’s Dieu Parmi Nous from La Nativité du Seigneur. It was in the lesser-known pieces that Tikker communicated what seemed to be the essence and soul of the music. He captured the intensity and drama of Ross Lee Finney’s The Leaves on the Trees Spoke. Tikker set the stage of Vincent Persichetti’s Do Not Go Gentle for organ pedals alone, op. 132, by playing a recording of Dylan Thomas reading his poem. Likewise, he seemed to revel in the lyricism and quiet loveliness of Herbert Howells’ Quasi lento, tranquillo from Sonata for Organ. 

Conclusion

We thank Marilyn Mason and all who participated in the 52nd Conference on Organ Music. You offered us a sip of the elixir of life and we left refreshed. 

—Marijim Thoene

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song are available through Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts. 

Monday events

Guest lecturer Susanne Diedrich of Wupperthal, Germany described rhetorical/musical devices used in Bach’s Orgelbüchlein, such as circulatio, suspiratio, katabasis, anabasis, and exclamatio, which were illustrated in performances by U of M students Timothy Tikker, Renate McLaughlin, Josh Boyd, and Kipp Cortez.  

Speaking on the history of organ improvisation, Devon Howard of Chattanooga, a graduate of the University of Arizona, outlined possible reasons for the decline of improvisation in this country, as well as for its resurgence. He urged students to learn improvisation as a way to understand composed works more thoroughly. Howard’s model of imitation, assimilation, and innovation presaged the method described by the next speaker.

Pamela Ruiter-Feenstra proposed a model of construction, deconstruction, and reconstruction, by which one might create an improvisation by imitating extant compositions. In illustration of her book Bach and the Art of Improvisation, she performed a recital of five works by Bach, Pachelbel, and others, following each with an improvisation derived from some aspect of its model. She also highlighted some of the pedagogical resources available for teaching improvisation, distinguishing three different approaches and three levels of proficiency.

Seven high school students from the Interlochen Arts Academy, prepared by their teacher Thomas Bara, performed a stunning program in the afternoon slot. Joseph Russell, Garrett Law, Hannah Loeffler, Michael Caraher, Emily Blandon, David Heinze, and Bryan Dunnewald played with poise, spirit, maturity, and musicality.

Professor James Kibbie and his colleague Professor David Jackson and the University of Michigan Trombone Ensemble (19 players) brought the evening to a high point. Kibbie and Jackson presented works for organ and trombone by Koetsier, Schiffmann, and Eben. The trombones (senza organo) made an impact in a canzona by Gabrieli and a transcription from Morten Lauridsen. Kibbie’s solo performance of “Moto ostinato” and “Finale” from Eben’s Sunday Music crowned the evening.

—Gale Kramer

Gale Kramer, DMA, is organist emeritus of Metropolitan United Methodist Church in Detroit, Michigan, and a former assistant professor of organ at Wayne State University. As a student and graduate of the University of Michigan he has attended no fewer than 44 of the annual conferences on organ music. He is a regular reviewer and occasional contributor to The Diapason. His article, “Food References in the Short Chorales of Clavierübung III,” appeared in the April 1984 issue of The Diapason.

Photo credit: Marijim Thoene

Neal Campbell has been director of music and organist of St. Luke’s Parish, Darien, Connecticut, since 2006. Prior to that he held church, synagogue, and college positions in Washington, Philadelphia, New York, New Jersey, and Virginia. Growing up in Washington as a student of William Watkins, he first met Roy Perry in 1972 when he was a finalist in the AGO National Organ Playing Competition in Dallas. He continued his association with Perry during the years Perry presided over the work at Washington National Cathedral and he played and recorded on the Kilgore organ several times. For a fuller account of the festival, including complete programs and stoplists, the reader is referred to Neal’s blog at http://nealfcampbell.wordpress.com.

Background

For the second time in as many years, I attended the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival held November 12–15, 2012, honoring the life and work of Roy Perry (1906–1978), featuring four organs built by Aeolian-Skinner that Perry designed and finished. The rationale for such an event is best summed up in Roy Perry’s own words in a brochure he wrote in 1952, shortly after the organs in First Presbyterian Church and St. Luke’s Methodist Church in Kilgore, and First Baptist Church in Longview were built:

A decade and a half ago the tonal designs of G. Donald Harrison were considered revolutionary, mostly because of the considerable publicity given a few of his organs built in the so-called Baroque style. At the present time, when tastes range all the way from extreme Romanticism . . . to the bleak austerities of the Baroque, his tonal ideas represent a temperate middle-of-the-road. The flexibility of his thinking is well demonstrated in the three organs considered in this booklet. None of these organs is extreme in any direction. They are alike only by way of family resemblance, but each in its way is a work of art. They provide a generous education in contemporary organ building as interpreted by this great artist, and are happily concentrated in a small geographical area.

It is clear from his own words that Roy considered G. Donald Harrison, and not himself, to be the designer of these organs. This raises the question: did Perry design these (or any other) A-S organs? Roy himself would have been the first to say it was GDH, whom he revered during their association. But it is also true that Roy had a lot of design control over the organs he sold for A-S and that GDH relied heavily on Perry’s knowledge in setting parameters. In the last fifteen years of A-S’s existence following Harrison’s death, Roy’s influence over “his” organs was even greater, sometimes even surreptitiously so!

However, the real signature that manifests itself in each of Roy Perry’s organs is the result of the finishing process in which he and the Williams family of technicians brought the factory-completed instruments to their full flower through installing and tonal finishing on site. (See Lorenz Maycher, “The Williams Family of New Orleans: Installing and Maintaining Aeolian-Skinner Organs,” The Diapason, May 2006.) This, multiplied over the span of his 20-plus-year career with A-S, puts a musical imprimatur on Roy’s organs that is hard to miss, although difficult to quantify by means of scientific measurement. Writing to Henry Willis III in 1955, Donald Harrison says that Roy 

. . . has supervised, with the aid of Jack Williams [sometimes known as T. J.] and his son [Jim or J. C.], most of our important installations in Texas. He is an accomplished organist and has a wonderful ear. He is a top notch finisher and during my periodic visits to Texas I cannot remember a time when I have had to suggest that something might have been done a little differently. He just has that kind of organ sense.

Festival itinerary

Unlike AGO conventions and denominational conferences with which I personally have been involved, these festivals were my first experiences with a topic-specific conference, and the rewards for those who love these organs were enormous. All of the playing was memorable and the organs were in excellent condition, which made for an exhilarating week. [For an account of last year’s festival, readers are referred to Michael Fox’s review in the February 2012 issue of The Diapason.] 

My complete participation was somewhat compromised by having to play services in Connecticut on Sunday morning, so I missed the pre-festival recital by Bradley Welch on Sunday evening in Longview. Further, part of my mission in attending was to provide transportation and note-holding for organ technician Stephen Emery. But I did attend all of the recitals on the four Aeolian-Skinner organs—the three in Kilgore and Longview, and one in Nacogdoches.

In addition to honoring the legacy of Roy Perry, this year the life and career of Alexander Boggs Ryan, noted teacher and performer from Longview, was commemorated in the Wednesday afternoon and evening sessions in Longview when the program departed from its A-S-centric (and even its organ-centric) scheme in an organ recital and a program of harpsichord music in Trinity Episcopal Church, the Ryan family church and organ. There was also a display of memorabilia on the lives of Perry and Ryan at the Gregg County Historical Museum.

Just as no discussion of these organs in their earlier generation would be complete without mention of the Williams family of organ technicians from New Orleans who installed and maintained them, so the work of Steve Emery was central to the success of this festival. For a week prior to the festival itself, and throughout the week of events, Steve gave these four organs the type of careful, knowledgeable, sympathetic attention that has earned him his reputation as an expert on the maintenance and restoration of these types of organs. 

This circuit-rider approach to organ maintenance is not unlike what took place in the years following these organs’ initial installations and on other A-S installations throughout the region: the Williamses—T. J. and Sally, Jim and Nora, or some combination—would arrive on site, check into a motel and stay for a week or ten days once a year at the most! to do a thorough tuning and some planned repairs. Between these annual visits Roy Perry, assisted by locals, would tune and make minor repairs. 

Monday

Before the festival officially opened, there was an opportunity in the afternoon to gather in St. Luke’s United Methodist Church in Kilgore for a demonstration of the organ and for some reminiscences and conversation with Charles Callahan and Larry Palmer on composers they had known and with whom they had worked. 

Larry offered remembrances of his several commissions from and first performances of the works of Gerald Near, and Charlie told of his encounters with Leo Sowerby, David McK. Williams, and Thomas Matthews. Of particular interest, however, were his remembrances of visiting with Alexander Schreiner, pupil of Widor and Vierne, whom we know primarily as the organist of the Mormon Tabernacle immediately prior to and following the installation of A-S’s legendary five-manual organ. But Schreiner’s Ph.D. degree was in composition and he composed a lot of music, most of which is unknown. 

The opening recital of the festival was given by Thomas Murray at the First Presbyterian Church in Kilgore on Monday evening and was the second annual recital honoring James Lynn Culp, organist emeritus of the church. At the mid-point in the evening a plaque was shown honoring Culp’s thirty years of service to the church, which will be placed in the chancel along with those to Roy Perry and G. Donald Harrison.

Murray’s use of the organ was the most conservative of the week and the organ obliged completely and effectively in replicating a sound more typical of the house of Skinner in its pre-Harrison days, even in his hefty dose of Bach—the Concerto in C after Ernst, and the Passacaglia. The rest of the program, and particularly the Franck Grande pièce symphonique, was informed by a 19th-century aesthetic. In the scherzo of the Franck, in particular, Professor Murray’s solid and assured technique was put to good use. 

Tuesday

The morning recital was again at First Presbyterian Church and could not have been in greater contrast to the use of the organ the previous evening. I had not heard Walt Strony previously, although I had known his name and—erroneously, as it turns out—had assumed he was strictly a theatre organist. What I quickly learned was that his approach, technique, and style defies description in typical academic terms; Strony seems completely at home in concert, theatre, and church settings. It must have been this type of all-commanding wizardry put to solid musical principles that led throngs to hear organists Edwin H. Lemare and Archer Gibson in the early 20th century.

He used the organ in all of its permutations and possibilities. The standard groupings of organ tone and registration were clearly evident, but the imaginative exploitative quest for color and drama was also always apparent, and tastefully so. Walt’s biography in the program booklet says that he has written a book on theatre organ registration, which has become a standard reference work for theatre organists. I wish he would write one for classical organists, too. We have a lot to learn from him, especially those who attempt effective transcriptions. 

Walt’s program was an eclectic mix of original works for organ, transcriptions, paraphrases of classical standards, and some dazzling arrangements of his own. His hymn arrangements made me ache for the pre-praise-band days when the organ was still the instrument of choice in evangelical churches. I particularly liked his inclusion of an arrangement of a Fats Waller piece, reminding us that Waller was an organist and knew Dupré! His performance of Lemare’s transcription of the Liebestod easily stood its own with Virgil Fox’s recording at Wanamaker’s. The Carmen Fantasy and closing Kismet suite on music by Borodin were the organist’s counterpart to a standard 19th- and 20th-century piano virtuoso’s staple—the symphonic paraphrase. In this case Walt struck me as being the Horowitz of the organ! Richard Purvis’s music (Capriccio on the Notes of the Cuckoo, and Thanksgiving from Four Prayers in Tone) captured the essence of the Kilgore organ, which was easily the equal of its slightly older and larger cousin, Grace Cathedral, the organ for which it was conceived. 

I was impressed most of all by the fact that Walt Strony seemed comfortable in stepping aside and letting the organ take center stage in its own right. He did not try to mold it into his preconceived notion, or filter it through any established aesthetic. He didn’t attempt to make it sound like a theatre organ, or a so-called symphonic organ, or a classic organ, although elements of each were clearly present. It was simply the modern American organ playing music—and, in a word Roy Perry liked to use in describing this very organ, it was “deluxe!”

Tuesday afternoon the conference moved to Longview, about a ten-minute drive from Kilgore, and was devoted to a visit to Trinity Episcopal Church in Longview, the Ryan family church. Jeremy Bruns demonstrated the Ryan Family Organ built by Ross King, and Larry Palmer played a harpsichord recital featuring several works—modern works by Near, Martinu, Howells, and arrangements of Duke Ellington—which I was particularly sorry not to hear, but Steve Emery and I had our work cut out for us in tuning the large organ in the First Baptist Church. (See “Harpsichord News,” page 20.)

The history and aesthetic of the First Baptist Church in Longview is the stuff of legend. Its complete history is far too rich to adequately tell here. Suffice it to say that it could only have taken place due to three important and independent factors: the oil-rich location in East Texas, the population boom of the post-World War II era, and the visionary leadership of its pastor from 1945–1971, the Rev. Dr. W. Morris Ford. 

Unlike some so-called “high” ecumenical Baptist churches in the South with impressive music programs and facilities to match—such as Myers Park in Charlotte, or River Road in Richmond (or even Riverside in New York)—First Baptist in Longview was always more or less a typical Southern Baptist church. 

Dr. Ford was a cultured man with an earned doctorate, a love of music, and a fine singing and speaking voice. He sang both as soloist and with the church choir, and it was he who infused the church and its services with an innate sense of classical dignity in all things, which was his authentic response to the calling of the Gospel. This he did without diminishing the essential tenets or manifestations of the Baptist tradition. 

When it was decided to build a new church, the vision was big and bold. The local architect B. F. Crain, who trained at Harvard, and built several notable buildings in the area, was selected and the style of the new church was determined to be “Modern Gothic.” To be frank, there is little that is Gothic about it in the textbook sense, but the scale and towering spaciousness—even its domination of its local surroundings—is obviously inspired by the Gothic aesthetic stripped to its essential unadorned lines. It seats 1,700 and was designed with the organ’s success in mind from the beginning. Taken in this light, the 87-rank organ seems modest, at least on paper. But its tonal impact is comprehensive and monumental. Writing in the aforementioned booklet about the organ when it was new, Roy Perry says:

Although this organ leans toward the Classic style, it affords five pairs of strings, a Vox Humana, and percussions, not to mention the wonderful flutes and small reeds. It will do justice to any music, even the humblest; in grandeur it holds its own with the great organs of the world.

The organ seems to have suited the needs and vision of the church perfectly; it was appreciated as an asset to the community and was played by the great organists of the day. Virgil Fox inaugurated the organ and ultimately played there several times, and Catharine Crozier made two notable LP recordings on it, which were iconic in publicizing and documenting the organ when new. 

In the ensuing years recitals and concerts took place with regularity in the yearly round of church services and activities, including a performance in 1962 of the Bach St. John Passion sung by the Robert Shaw Chorale, of which by this time Dr. Ford’s son, David, was a member. The church may not have styled itself as anything but a typical Southern Baptist church, but during Dr. Ford’s tenure as pastor there were many opportunities to be presented with world-class music, in nearly perfect acoustical surroundings, by well-known recitalists and ensembles.

Richard Elliott, organist of the Mormon Tabernacle, played the Alexander Boggs Ryan Memorial Concert at First Baptist Church on Tuesday evening. The recital featured several pieces from various eras and genres, which presented the organ to excellent effect. Ryan had played a recital at the church in 1959 that included three pieces sung by the Rev. Dr. Morris Ford. These three songs (The Heavens Are Telling, op. 48—Beethoven; Panis Angelicus—Franck; and Recessional—Reginald De Koven) were here sung by David Ford, and it was good to hear the organ in its role as accompanist, which was a significant part of the organ’s duty in the normal round of services. 

Richard played the technically demanding program with the ease and confidence audiences are accustomed to from his weekly broadcasts. The concluding work was the familiar Vierne Carillon de Westminster, which was characterized by an intense rhythmic drive throughout, and the gradual building up of dynamic forces, which continued throughout the piece until the very end. Elliott obviously knew how to elicit the most drama out of the organ. Many an organist wouldn’t be able to resist pulling out all the stops too soon; here the various climaxes were gauged and measured, saving something for the final few bars. It reminded me of the old Columbia recording of Alexander Schreiner playing this work at the Tabernacle, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Richard had patterned his scheme on it.

Wednesday

The first event of the day was a delightful program by Charles Callahan at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church that consisted of lesser-known gems by Bach, Fiocco, Charles and Samuel Wesley—honoring our host denomination—Peace, Wolstenholme, and three of his own compositions. The program was carefully chosen to highlight the great variety and nuance of this remarkable organ, and were played with charm, elegance, and lyricism. I sat in the back of the full, completely carpeted church and the organ had remarkable presence in the room, which itself was completely devoid of reverberation. This is a testament to the success of the organbuilder’s art.

Before lunch we walked the few blocks to First Presbyterian Church for Ann Frohbieter’s well-chosen program, which, with the exception of Houston composer Michael Horvit’s The Red Sea, consisted of standard, well-known organ repertoire by Reger, Vivaldi-Bach, Ives, Barber, Vierne, and Liszt. But the playing was anything but standard! Each piece was thrillingly played with an obvious affinity and understanding of the inherent resources and beauty of the organ. To me it was the perfect foil to Strony’s program the previous morning, showing the same thrilling approach to the organ via the repertoire. The Red Sea is a programmatic work of eleven sections that depicts the biblical drama of the escape and deliverance of the Israelites from the Egyptians through the Red Sea. 

After lunch we walked back to St. Luke’s for a recital by Christopher Houlihan. The program was heroic for the small organ and room, but consistently well played from memory. Having heard the Bach Passacaglia on Monday evening, it was interesting to hear it again on this organ. Christopher’s interpretation sounded more at home in this setting. Houlihan has made a specialty of the Vierne symphonies, playing all six in marathon sessions around the country. Here he planned three movements (including the Final) from the Sixth, but after practicing at the organ, substituted three movements from the Second, which was a wise move. 

I particularly liked the Bach trio sonata (C major) and his transcription of the slow movement of Debussy’s opus 10 string quartet. Each seemed to capture the chamber-music aspect of the music, which ideally suited this organ and this room. Christopher is certain to have a bright career ahead of him, and it was good to have someone from the younger generation on the festival roster. Incidentally, there were a good number of young people at the festival for individual events, and Joby Bell’s entire studio from Appalachian State University in North Carolina attended the entire week.

Wednesday evening was movie night at First Presbyterian Church as Brett Valliant accompanied the silent classic “The Phantom of the Opera.” Brett’s accompaniment was lyrical and lush and may have been inspired by the theatre organists of the past, but this, like Walt Strony’s program Tuesday morning, was simply the Kilgore organ rising to yet another musical task with satisfying musical results.

Thursday

Thursday morning the festival moved to Nacogdoches, where the smallest of the four A-S organs—located in the First Baptist Church—was featured. The worship space here is slightly larger than St. Luke’s in Kilgore and the factors involving the acoustics are much more favorable. The organ is a model of careful voicing, scaling, and finishing, is ideally suited to its surroundings, and is entirely satisfying on its own, in spite of its small size. 

The program began with Scott Davis leading the audience in singing a hymn, with his improvised introduction, an interlude, and concluding stanza. Scott also concluded the program with an extended multi-movement improvisation in the style of his late teacher Gerre Hancock. These—the hymn singing and improvising—were the only nods during the week to the liturgical effectiveness these organs also possess.

The centerpiece of the program was another of Charlie Callahan’s signature programs of interesting, lesser-known works, which were carefully selected and performed to present the organ in its most favorable light—works by Clarence Dickinson, Nathaniel Dett, Joseph Clokey, and Richard Purvis’s Melody in Mauve, a harmonically rich and evocative gem. Charlie also played two recent compositions of his own: Alleluia (an energetic miniature, similar in feel to his more virtuosic Fanfares and Riffs) and Festival Voluntary on “St. Anne” for Horn and Organ, which received its first performance.

Charlie also spoke at some length about Roy Perry and the Williams family, and some of the other Aeolian-Skinner personalities he has known over the years growing up in Boston, particularly Arthur Birchall, for whom as a young man he held notes on tuning and finishing jobs. This was a valuable spoken addition to the otherwise instrumental nature of the week’s events.

Back to Kilgore for the afternoon recital by Christopher Jennings for what was anticipated as a highlight of the week: the complete performance of Clarence Dickinson’s Storm King Symphony at First Presbyterian. We know that Dickinson played individual movements from among the five, but there is no documentation of his (or anyone else’s) ever playing the entire work, and this was one of several times this season when Christopher has played it in its entirety. The program notes told us that the symphony “reflects impressions made on the composer by the varying moods of the stately Storm King mountain, which stands guard over the Highlands of the Hudson” near Dickinson’s home.

It is a pity that in most circles Dickinson’s compositions aren’t taken very seriously today. He wrote so many small works and carol arrangements that are so accessible that the larger forms, which require significant technical prowess, are basically unknown. Taken as a whole, the entire symphony could easily supplant the effect and aura of either the Reubke Sonata or Liszt Ad nos on a recital program.

Christopher’s use of the organ was informed by the early 20th-century organs that Dickinson would have known, but in a commanding and vivid way that did not sound retrospective. The natural power and expressiveness of the organ was entirely satisfying and there was not the impression that he was under-using the organ, even though he elected to leave out most of the upperwork. On occasion he used the famous Trompette-en-Chamade in chorus, Bombarde-wise, and it was very effective. The sound is not as ferocious as it looks, at least out in the church. In fact, it is one of the standard A-S Trompette Harmonique designs mounted horizontally, on reasonable wind pressure, which can in fact function as a chorus reed capping the full ensemble when called upon to do so.

I regretted that I could not attend the second half of the program, consisting of works by New York composers Alec Wyton, Calvin Hampton, and Gerre Hancock, as Steve Emery and I had to get over to Longview to touch up the tuning.

Ken Cowan played the concluding recital at First Baptist Church. In advance publicity on its Facebook page, festival director Lorenz Maycher wrote: “On the questionnaire, where his manager asked what kind of program we’d like, I put HEAVY DUTY. That’s exactly what we got. I love it when that happens!” There’s really not a lot that I can add to that. It was a huge program, played from memory, characterized by effortless technique in the service of the music, and impeccable use of the organ’s vast resources. It was epic and (sorry Virgil Fox) I don’t recall a better organ recital in my life.

When the Kilgore organ was new, one of the first players to present a recital on it was William Watkins, then not 30 years old. He had just won the Young Artist Award of the National Federation of Music Clubs, at the time the most prestigious competition to which any young musician could aspire; it was open to all instrumentalists. Watkins was the first organist to win it, and Roy Perry wisely brought him to play the new organ to a full church. The review in the Kilgore News Herald of February 17, 1950, which Watkins used in his publicity for many years, was written by Roy Perry himself, concluding “This boy is one of the great interpretive artists of the century.” The same can truthfully be said of Ken Cowan in this century. ν

All recent photography is by Bill Leazer and Paul Marchesano.

In perfect harmony

All musicians know what harmony is: chords, voice leading, dissonance, and resolution. We know harmony as one of the persnickety courses you’re required to take in school, in my case taught by a tyrannical and sometimes abusive professor. When you master the craft of harmony, or at least understand it enough to be dangerous, the magic of music is unlocked for you. You may have always known that Bach’s music was special, but dig into its structure and mathematics, and it becomes otherworldly. Paradoxically, the more you know about, the less you can understand it. I think it’s the mystical equivalent of how Rembrandt, Rubens, or Hobbema could mix linseed oil and pigment and make light flow from their paintbrushes.

But harmony is more than a mathematical exercise or an enigmatic code. It’s a way of being. It’s a way of managing the life of a community. Dictionary definitions use words like “pleasing,” “agreement,” and “concord.” 

How green is green?

I have vivid memories of two special moments in my childhood when I experienced something “live” for the first time. One was the first time I walked into Fenway Park in Boston with my father to see a Red Sox game. Dad was an avid fan, and I had watched dozens of games on (black and white) television with him. I’ve never seen grass so green as it was at Fenway that day. It was breathtaking, and I’ll always remember it.

The other was the first time I heard the Boston Symphony Orchestra live on their “home field.” There was something about the sonority of those double basses that I knew could not exist anywhere else. And the scale of the thing—the sea of black suits, the amber hues of fifty or sixty stringed instruments with their bows moving precisely in parallel, the gleaming polished brass in the back row, the majestic proscenium arch, and of course, the huge display of gold façade pipes of the great organ. 

That impression has evolved over the years to include the idea that a hundred highly trained musicians spread out over a vast stage, playing simultaneously, is one of the great expressions of the human condition. I love witnessing the precision of all those instruments assuming playing positions, the conductor’s downbeat, and the instant expression of sound. It moves me every time. Young and old, men and women, liberals and conservatives, and from all races and backgrounds, baring their souls and their intellects toward a common result. What a world this would be if our politicians worked that way.

Let’s take it a step further. Strip those musicians of their paraphernalia. No violins, no piccolos, no drums, no hardware at all. What have you got? A choir. It’s elemental. The instruments are the human bodies themselves. Isn’t it amazing that you can give a pitch and have them sing it back, out of the blue? And I love the sound of a hundred people drawing breath at the same instant. It gives new meaning to the phrase, corporate inspiration!

What sweeter music 

can we bring?

While I know some musicians consider John Rutter’s choral music to be saccharine, or too sentimental, few of us would fail to recognize this opening line from one of his lovely Christmas carols. I think his music is terrific, not necessarily because of its intellectual content, but simply because it’s beautiful. I’ve been rattling on about harmony as if it’s the essence of music, but what about melody? A Mozart piano concerto, a Schubert song, and as far as I am concerned, anything by Mendelssohn draws its beauty first from melody. I think John Rutter is one of the best living melodists. 

Whenever I put a new piece by Rutter in front of a choir, invariably, they loved it. Congregations lit up with smiles, and people went home humming. Beautiful harmonies, catchy rhythms, gorgeous tunes. So what if it’s sweet and sentimental?

Rutter was born in 1945, which makes him eleven years older than me. But when I was fourteen years old, singing in the choir in my home parish, I saw his name in that green Carols for Choirs published by the Oxford University Press. He was in his twenties when he started creating those arrangements and newly composed carols, and a choir member once said to me, “Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without John Rutter.” (She was referring to the Shepherd’s Pipe Carol with its snazzy organ licks.)

I’m not thinking about John Rutter because I’m yearning for Christmas. As I write, a late spring is finally beginning to look like summer in Maine, after a long harrowing winter. And besides, he has written plenty of music for other occasions. But the other day, while lurking about Facebook, I came across a brief video, The Importance of Choir, produced by J. W. Pepper, which markets Rutter’s music in the United States. It’s three and a half minutes long, with two basic camera angles, showing Rutter in the obligatory Oxford shirt (unbuttoned at the neck) and sweater, summarizing his long-gestated reasoning of why choirs are important. He says:

Choral music is not one of life’s frills. It’s something that goes to the very heart of our humanity, our sense of community, and our souls. You express, when you sing, your soul in song. And when you get together with a group of other singers, it becomes more than the sum of the parts. All of those people are pouring out their hearts and souls in perfect harmony, which is kind of an emblem for what we need in the world, when so much of the world is at odds with itself. That just to express in symbolic terms what it’s like when human beings are in harmony. That’s a lesson for our times, and for all time.

It may sound as though he’s describing a perfect choir—one that could hardly exist. But he continues, “Musical excellence is, of course, at the heart of it, but even if a choir is not the greatest in the world, it has a social value, a communal value . . . a church or a school without a choir is like a body without a soul.”

“Not one of life’s frills.” I love that. It’s such a simple statement, and it rings so true. When the human essence of the thing is described so eloquently, the concept is elevated to become essential. You can watch this brief but meaningful video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pm-Pm1FYZ-U, or type “John Rutter the importance of choir” into the YouTube search field. 

An important foundation of tomorrow’s choristers is the youth choir of the local church. Ideally, it’s a group of kids who dependably attend rehearsals, where they’re taught musical and vocal fundamentals. I remember wonderful experiences with the kids at my last church, when they responded to challenges and took pleasure in mastering complicated music. But it was a short season. That was a community where lots of families had second homes in ski country, and as soon as there was snow, off they went. Oddly, the kids often came to weekday rehearsals, but then missed Sunday mornings. 

And ice time. Holy cow. Peewee hockey teams jockeyed for reserved time at rinks, and since that time was so highly valued, coaches were happy to get a 5 a.m. slot. By the time the kids got to church at 8:30, they were beat up and exhausted. And in the schools, when budget time came around, arts and music (as if they could be separated) got cut long before football and even cheerleading.

And I’m talking about young kids in public schools. Take it to the next level where colleges and universities produce scholarships for athletes with sometimes only cursory academic requirements, and the priorities of an institution can really be questioned.

Take one for the team.

I’m not what you’d call an all-around sports fan, but I do love baseball. Our move last year from Boston to New York has made things complicated for me. There’s a precision about baseball—an elegance in the strategies. The application of statistics makes it the closest thing in sports to a Bach fugue. And since that first breathtaking glimpse of the greenest of green grass, I think I’m safe saying I went to hundreds of games with my father, who had the same seats for forty years. I love telling people that the two of us attended twenty-five consecutive opening day games at Fenway Park. That’s many thousands of hours, and I know that an important part of my adult relationship with my father happened in those seats (Section 26, Row 4, Seats 13 and 14—on the third base line).

And when they were playing well, it was a pleasure to watch the carefully choreographed 6-4-3 double play. Or a pitcher and first baseman trying to bluff a base runner. I think I understand the importance of teaching teamwork, which I suppose is the root of why there’s such a strong emphasis on sports in schools. But if choir, or band, or orchestra isn’t teamwork, I guess I’m missing something. 

Later in that video, John Rutter challenges those who are responsible for institutional budgets to acknowledge the central importance of the arts and especially ensemble music in education, saying that it’s “ . . . like a great oak that rises up from the center of the human race, and spreads its branches everywhere.” To carry that thought a little further, as long as the squirrels don’t get there first, that great oak will drop thousands of acorns which, assuming good conditions, will grow to become tomorrow’s great trees.

For the life of me, I can’t understand why cuts in a school’s budget should affect the arts before sports. I know I’m biased, and I surely know that people will disagree with me, but to quote the late Robin Williams, “I’m sorry. If you were right, I’d agree with you.” Football is just a game, while music—learning to play an instrument or singing in a choir—is a centuries-old centerpiece of human expression. And the more we hear in the media about new understanding of the lasting effects of games like football on the human body, the more I wonder how it can be justified. Singing in a choir doesn’t cause concussions or brain damage, and it exposes students to the history of our culture in an important way. I’d say “it’s a no-brainer,” if it wasn’t so very brainy.

Tools of the trade

American jazz pianist Benny Green said, “A jazz musician is a juggler who uses harmonies instead of oranges.” The development of harmony is a fascinating story of evolution. Pythagoras lived on the Greek island of Samos from about 570 BC to 495 BC. It was he who, listening to the blows of blacksmiths’ hammers on anvils, first noticed and described the overtone series, which is the root of all intervals. He must have had terrific ears, and his deductions about the math that became music are no less spectacular than Galileo and Copernicus sitting on a hilltop at night for long enough to deduce that the earth rotates on its axis while orbiting the sun.

The identification of the overtone series led to organum, where two voices chanted in parallel motion. Then, maybe an inattentive monk made a mistake and went up instead of down, creating a dissonance that demanded resolution. It only took a few hundred years for that brotherly slip to turn into the harmonies of Dunstable, Dufay, Ockeghem, Lassus, Sweelinck, Schiedemann, Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and the rest is history.

Our tyrannical music theory teacher helped us understand the tools and the building blocks of music—those rules that define the difference between the music of Josquin des Prez and Felix Mendelssohn. Major and minor, diminished and augmented chords are arranged in sequence—progressions—that lead the listener from start to finish of a piece. They are analogous to the ingredients that are combined to produce a luscious dish.

Make it up as you go along.

Last week, I was preparing an organ in New York City for a colleague’s recital. But since it was to be a program of improvisation, we agreed it couldn’t be called a recital. Taken literally, the word implies “reciting” something that has already been written. In the hours before the concert, he received themes submitted on-line and in person, and a program was distributed that listed the compositional styles he would be using: Classic French Suite, Baroque Prelude and Fugue, etc.

Improvisation is the realm of the jazz musician and the organist. There’s something about the organ that lends itself to monumental improvisation, and there’s something about improvisation that propels a musician to a different level.

There’s a parlor-stunt aspect to improvisation. Sometimes the themes are humorous, like that for The Flintstones, which was submitted by the audience the other night. We chuckle as we hear a tux-clad performer using the clichés of classic French organ registration to warble that tune, invoking visual images and lyrics associated with childhood Saturday mornings. Imagine Fred and Wilma wearing powdered wigs. But we marvel at the skill, and the knowledge of harmony, of regional and historical compositional styles, as he conjures up a never-heard-before majestic piece of music right before your eyes, or is it your ears?

It’s easy to figure why the organ, so deeply rooted in the history of the church, would be such a perfect vehicle for improvisation. The musical heritage of the church, of any church, is based on simple melodies such as plainchant and hymn tunes. And how much of the literature of the organ is based on tunes like Veni Creator Spiritus, or Nun danket alle Gott?

While improvisation seems like magic, it’s based on solid knowledge of the tools and building blocks of music. Don’t think for a moment that Fats Waller, Dizzy Gillespie, or Ella Fitzgerald are just doodling. Charles Tournemire or Pierre Cochereau are not doodling. They’re serious, carefully constructed, thoughtful pieces of music.  If they weren’t, they would never survive the relentless scrutiny of recording, or of reconstruction for “re-performance.”

It’s not a frill.

Music. There’s something about it. Is that a trite thing to say? How did any of us get involved in music enough to bother with reading this journal? No musician purposely sets an educational course to financial success. It’s the love of it, the caring about it, the need for it. In choirs, we find community without parallel, human cooperation and collaboration that can serve as a model for everything else we do. In improvisation, we create masterpieces for the moment. When the last echo dies away, it’s gone, making space for another.

Hundreds of generations of scientists, philosophers, and artists have collaborated to give us this music, which inspires, thrills, and soothes us. It’s not a frill. It’s not an elective. It’s essential. Don’t waste your vote. ν