Hellmuth Wolff: Mentor and Friend

by James B. Hartman

Organbuilding in the United States and Canada is a thriving art practiced in hundreds of shops throughout the continent. Emerging from decades of stylistic extremes, organbuilders are combining a wealth of knowledge from the past with new technologies to meet contemporary design challenges. North American builders, compelled by a unique spirit of cooperation and openness, are successfully raising the artistic standards of this time-honored craft. (American Institute of Organbuilders, descriptive statement.)

The organ has occupied a prominent place in the musical culture of Canada since the days of the first European settlement, chiefly because of its close connection with church music and the ambitions of many congregations. The first organs, brought from France, were installed in Québec City around 1660. An anecdotal report mentions the acquisition by a Halifax church of a Spanish instrument that had been seized on board a ship in 1765.1 Following a period in which organs continued to be imported from England and France, organbuilding began as early as 1723 and flourished mainly in Québec and Ontario from the mid-19th century onward.2 By the second half of the 19th century, organ building had become a relatively important industry in Eastern Canada, where companies had acquired sufficient expertise to compete in the international market, including the United States.3

The development of organbuilding in Canada proceeded through several phases, beginning with early builders.4  The first known organbuilder was Richard Coates, who arrived in Canada from England in 1817; he supplied mainly barrel organs to several small churches in Ontario. Joseph Casavant, the first Canadian-born builder, installed his first instrument in the Montréal region in 1840; he transmitted his skills to his sons, who later established the company that achieved world-wide recognition. The arrival from the United States of Samuel Russell Warren in 1836 marked the introduction of professional-calibre organbuilding into the country. His family firm had produced about 350 pipe organs by 1869; it was sold in 1896 to D. W. Karn (see below). Other prominent organ builders included Napoléon Déry (active 1874-1889), Eusèbe Brodeur (a successor to Joseph Casavant in 1866), and Louis Mitchell (active 1861-1893) in Québec, and Edward Lye (active 1864-1919) in Ontario.

The years 1880-1950 were marked by unprecedented growth in organbuilding, beginning with the establishment of Casavant Frères in 1879 in Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec. The Canadian Pipe Organ Company/Compagnie d'orgues canadiennes was established in 1910 by some former Casavant staff, also in Saint-Hyacinthe (when the firm closed in 1931 its equipment was acquired by Casavant). Prominent Ontario builders included the firms of Richard S. Williams (founded 1854 in Toronto), Denis W. Karn (commenced 1897 in Woodstock), C. Franklin Legge (founded 1915 in Toronto, joined by William F. Legge 1919, who later established his own company in Woodstock around 1948), and the Woodstock Pipe Organ Builders (an organization of skilled craftsmen in that Ontario town, 1922-1948). Several smaller, independent builders were active for a time in Ontario, the Maritime provinces, and Manitoba (late 1880s). British Columbia, on the other hand, seems to have had no indigenous organbuilders, for instruments were imported from the United States or from England on ships that sailed around Cape Horn; one of the earliest arrived in Victoria from England by this route in 1861.

In the early 1950s some organbuilders, encouraged by younger organists who had played European instruments, as well as the increasing availability of sound recordings of these organs, turned to classical principles of organbuilding to counter what they perceived as the colorless sound palettes of Canadian organs of the 1930s. The return to earlier tonal aesthetics, inspired by the so-called 17th-century "Baroque organ," found expression in the construction of bright-toned, tracker-action instruments. The "new orthodoxy" was enthusiastically assimilated by Casavant Frères and by a number of independent builders in the same region, some of whom had received their training in Europe. Karl Wilhelm, Hellmuth Wolff, André Guilbault and Guy Thérien, Fernand Létourneau, Gabriel Kney, and Gerhard Brunzema were prominent in this movement, and many of them are still in business. Their accomplishments, along with the activities of other known organbuilders of the 1990s, will be described in chronological order, according to their founding dates, in the remainder of this article.5

Casavant Frères, Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec (1879)

Casavant is the oldest continuing name in organbuilding in North America. Joseph Casavant (1807-1874), the father of the founders of the company, began his organbuilding career while still a Latin student at a Québec religious college, where he completed an unfinished organ from France with the help of a classic treatise on organbuilding. By the time he retired in 1866, after 26 years in business in Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec, he had installed organs in 17 churches in Québec and Ontario, but none of them survive. His sons, Joseph-Claver Casavant (1855-1933) and Samuel-Marie Casavant (1850-1929), worked for Eusèbe Brodeur, their father's successor, for a few years. They opened their own factory in Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec, in 1879, following an extended tour of western Europe inspecting organs and visiting workshops; Claver had apprenticed briefly with a Versailles builder before the tour. In the early years the Casavant brothers were conservative in their tonal design, emulating the ensemble sound of the kind they had heard in old-world instruments that they had examined during their European tour. But from the outset the brothers were innovators, beginning with improvements in the electric operation of their organs in the 1890s. As their reputation spread beyond the cities and towns of their province, production increased steadily.

The company experienced difficult times in the 1930s due to economic conditions, much standardization, and repetitive tonal design. Production was curtailed during the years of World War II due to a shortage of materials, and the company manufactured many unit organs during this period. Later, new initiatives were undertaken by several imaginative artistic directors who served with the firm between 1958 and 1965: Lawrence Phelps from Aeolian-Skinner in the U.S.A.; and European-trained Gerhard Brunzema, Karl Wilhelm, and Hellmuth Wolff.

Most present-day Casavant organs exhibit a conventional design that retains both symphonic and modern elements in subtle synthesis. Casavant organs are recognized for their special tonal qualities and the way the individual stops are blended together into a chorus at all dynamic levels. Time-tested actions include tracker, electrically operated slider windchests, and electro-pneumatic (since 1892; tubular-pneumatic was last used in the mid-1940s). The company workshop has eight departments: metalworking, woodworking, mechanism, consoles, painting, racking, voicing, and assembly. Virtually all components are made in the workshop, including all flue and reed pipes (to 32-foot-length), reed shallots, windchests, consoles, keyboards and pedalboards, and casework, although specialized wood carving and gilding are done by outside artisans. A few electrical components, such as blowers, power-supply units, electromagnets, solid-state combination and coupling systems, and hardware, are purchased from world-wide suppliers. All visual designs are coordinated with their intended surroundings; there are no stock designs. Organs are completely assembled for rigorous testing and playing in preparation for on-time delivery.

The company resumed the construction of tracker-action instruments in 1961 after a lapse of about 55 years, producing 216 such organs since that date. By the end of 1998 the total output amounted to 3,775 organs of all sizes, and many of these have received enthusiastic testimonials from renowned recitalists over the years. Although sales were limited mainly to North America until World War II, Casavant organs now have been installed in churches, concert halls, and teaching institutions on five continents. The firm's largest instrument is a five-manual, 129-stop organ with two consoles installed in Broadway Baptist Church, Fort Worth, Texas, in 1996. The great majority of the very large instruments have been installed in locations in the United States; the exception is the four-manual, 75-stop organ in Jack Singer Concert Hall, Calgary Centre for the Performing Arts, in 1987. The company also engages in renovation projects and additions to existing organs.

The key personnel include Pierre Dionne, President and Chief Operating Officer (from 1978), formerly Dean of Administration at the Business School of the University of Montréal; Stanley Scheer, Vice-President (1984), formerly Professor of Music and Head of the Department of Fine Arts at Pfeiffer University, Misenheimer, North Carolina, holds a Master of Music degree in organ performance from Westminster Choir College, Princeton, New Jersey; Jean-Louis Coignet, Tonal Director (1981), a professionally trained physiologist with a doctorate from the Sorbonne, contributor to music journals, the most knowledgeable authority on the work of Cavaillé-Coll today, was formerly organ expert for the City of Paris; Jacquelin Rochette, Associate Tonal Director (1984), formerly Music Director of Chalmers-Wesley United Church, Québec City, holds a Master's degree in organ performance from Laval University, performs regularly on CBC radio, and has recorded works by several French composers for organ; Denis Blain, Technical Director (1986), with many years of practical experience in virtually all aspects of organbuilding, is in charge of research and development; Pierre Drouin, Chief Engineer, holds a Bachelor of Architecture degree from Laval University, introduced computer-assisted drafting, and supervises the design and layout of each organ. In 1998 the company had 85 full-time employees, many with more than 30 years of service with the company. All levels of management and production personnel function as a team.

Keates-Geissler Pipe Organs, Guelph, Ontario (1945)

The company was established in 1945 in London, Ontario, by Bert Keates (he came from England in his infancy) and relocated to Lucan, Ontario, in 1950. When it was incorporated in 1951 the assets of the Woodstock Pipe Organ Builders (formerly Karn-Warren) were purchased. The company moved to Acton, Ontario, in 1961, a more central location in the province. In 1969 the growing firm took over the business of the J. C. Hallman Company, a manufacturer of electronic instruments and pipe organs, when it discontinued making pipe organs (but not parts for them). For several years some organs were manufactured under the name of Keates-Hallman Pipe Organs.6 The company moved to Guelph, Ontario, in 1994.

Dieter Geissler was born in Dittelsdorf, Saxony, Germany, where he began his trade as a cabinetmaker. At the age of 14 he commenced his apprenticeship with Schuster & Sohn, Zitau, where he remained from 1946 to 1950. In 1951 he moved to Lübeck, West Germany, where he worked as a voicer with E. Kemper & Sohn for five years. In 1956 he moved to Canada to join Keates's staff. When Keates retired at the end of 1971 Dieter Geissler became president of the firm, which he purchased in 1972, and adopted the present company name in 1982. His son, Jens Geissler, joined the company in 1978.

Keates-Geissler organs are offered in all types of action and are custom built to any required size. Altogether, 147 new organs7 have been installed at locations in Canada, the United States (about 15), and Barbados, West Indies. The output includes a number of four- and five-manual instruments; the largest is a five-manual, 231-stop organ, installed in the First Baptist Church, Jackson, Mississippi, in 1992 (a compilation of its original 1939 E. M. Skinner instrument, a 1929 five-manual Casavant organ removed by Keates-Geissler in 1986 from the Royal York Hotel, Toronto, and some additional structures by the company). The firm has undertaken a substantial number of renovation, rebuilding, and reinstallation projects over the years, about 1,500 altogether, about 75 of these in the United States.

All wooden pipes are made in the factory, but metal pipes are made by Giesecke or Laukhuff in Germany to the company's scaling specifications; preliminary voicing is done in the factory before final voicing on-site. The windchests of electro-pneumatic instruments feature Pitman-chest action that includes some unique features to overcome the effects of extremes in temperature and humidity; the company is the only such manufacturer in Ontario and one of a few in Canada. Expandable electronic switching systems are designed and made in the factory from readily available components to facilitate replacement. Solid-state switching and multiple-memory combination actions are also manufactured. Console shells are handcrafted from solid wood in the factory; tracker touch is an available option. Keyboards are custom made to the company's specifications by Laukhuff, Germany, and blowers are acquired mainly from the same company. The company had four full-time employees in 1998; other part-time workers are hired as needed.  

Guilbault-Thérien, Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec (1946)

This company originated with the Providence Organ Company, established in Saint-Hyacinthe in 1946. The partners, André Guilbault, whose father Maurice Guilbault had worked for Casavant, and Guy Thérien, a voicer from Casavant, joined forces in 1968 when the elder Guilbault retired. The present company name was adopted in 1979. When André Guilbault retired in 1992, Alain Guilbault (no relation) acquired an interest in the company.

At the outset the company manufactured electro-pneumatic instruments, but built its first mechanical-action instrument (Opus #1 in a new series), a two-manual, 7-stop organ, in 1970, immediately followed by several small one- and two-manual instruments. From 1974 onward the typical instruments were medium-size, two-manual organs. Larger instruments of three or four manuals began to appear with greater frequency after 1983, the largest being a four-manual, 45-stop organ installed in Grace Church, White Plains, New York, in 1989, the only installation in the United States to that time. While the tonal layout of the organs is mainly inspired by European sources, mainly French, the swell divisions of the larger instruments are sufficiently versatile to handle symphonic literature.

The output of new organs was about 55 to 1998, mainly in Québec and Ontario. The company's work has also involved the restoration and reconstruction of a similar number of Québec organs, mainly by Casavant, but including some of historical significance that are over a hundred years old by such early builders as Napoléon Déry and Louis Mitchell. 

Several compact discs featuring performances by Québec organists on instruments manufactured by the company, or on reconstructed historical Casavant instruments, have been released in the past decade.8

Principal Pipe Organ Company, Woodstock, Ontario (1961)

The company was established by Chris Houthuyzen in Woodstock, Ontario, a town with a continuing tradition of organbuilding. The founder served his apprenticeship and received further training in The Netherlands before coming to Canada. Small to medium-sized instruments, employing electro-pneumatic action, are the company's specialty, with a contemporary emphasis on the guiding principles of Dutch organbuilding. A total of 119 installations have been completed over the years; the largest was a four-manual, 58-rank instrument. Wooden pipes are made in the shop, but most metal pipes come from suppliers in the United States; their scaling is dictated by the acoustics and intended use of the organ. Chests, reservoirs, ducting, consoles, and casework are manufactured on the premises. Much of the company's work involves rebuilding and maintaining organs, as well as the installation and servicing of church bells, including cast and electronic carillons on behalf of the Verdin Company, Cincinnati, Ohio. The company had three employees in 1998.

Gabriel Kney, London, Ontario (1962-1996)

Gabriel Kney was born in Speyer, Germany; his father was a master cabinetmaker and amateur bassoonist, and his mother was a singer. He served his apprenticeship in organbuilding with Paul Sattel in Speyer (1945-1951), where he assisted in the restoration of historic, sometimes war-damaged, instruments, along with new organ construction. Since the era was a time of transition from the "Romantic" style of organbuilding to the concepts of Orgelbewegung, this trend provided him with the opportunity to learn about and participate in the building of organs of both concepts. Concurrently he was a student of organ literature, liturgical music, harmony, and improvisation at The Institute of Church Music in the same city.

He emigrated to Canada in 1951 and joined the Keates Organ Company in Lucan, Ontario, as an organbuilder and voicer. In 1955 he was co-founder, with John Bright, of the Kney and Bright Organ Company in London, Ontario, with the intention of specializing in tracker instruments. The timing was premature, for only a few musicians and teaching institutions found such instruments of interest; with the exception of two teaching organs of tracker design supplied to a college in the United States, most of the early organs were requested to have electric key action. In 1962 Gabriel Kney established his own company in London, Ontario, where, with enlarged facilities and a staff of six to eight, he specialized in mechanical-action instruments. Organs from the period between 1962 and 1966 were designed in the historic manner of Werkprinzip, with organ pipes enclosed in a free-standing casework and separated into tonal sections. The tonal design of smaller instruments followed 18th-century North European practices, with some tuned in unequal temperaments of the period.

Altogether, his shops produced 128 organs since 1955; the largest in Canada being the four-manual, 71-stop, tracker-action instrument with two consoles in Roy Thomson Hall, Toronto. Since the early 1970s almost three-quarters of the installations were in locations in the United States, several of these in large universities. Occasionally maintenance and historic instrument restoration projects were undertaken.

Wooden pipes were made in the shop, with the exception of very large pipes made to specifications by suppliers in the United States, England, or Germany. Metal pipes also were made to order by independent pipemakers in Germany or Holland. Some console components, such as keyboards, were obtained from suppliers in the United States, England, or Germany. Electric switching devices came from the United States in earlier years, later from England. Blowers were imported from Laukhuff in Germany, Meidinger in Switzerland, or White in the United States. All casework and chest construction was done in the shop.

In 1996 Gabriel Kney retired from active organbuilding and closed his company. Since then he has acted as a consultant to churches seeking advice on organ purchase, restoration, and tonal redesign, and sometimes to other organbuilders.

Karl Wilhelm, Mont Saint-Hilaire, Québec (1966)

Karl Wilhelm was born in Lichtenthal, Rumania, and grew up in Weikersheim, Germany. At the age of 16 he entered apprenticeship with A. Laukhuff, Weikersheim (1952-1956), followed by working experience with W. E. Renkewitz, Nehren/Tübingen (1956-1957), and Metzler & Söhne, Dietikon, Switzerland (1957-1960). After moving to Canada, in 1960 he joined Casavant Frères, where he established the department and trained several employees for the production of modern mechanical organs; while there he was responsible for the design and manufacture of 26 organs. In 1966 he established his own firm, first in Saint-Hyacinthe, then moved to new facilities in Mont Saint-Hilaire, near Montréal, Québec, in 1974. For a while he was assisted by Hellmuth Wolff, now an independent builder (see below).

Karl Wilhelm specializes in building mechanical organs of all sizes, 147 to date, of which 69 are located in the United States and two in Seoul, Korea. Of the total output, 43 are one-manual instruments, 93 are two-manual instruments of medium size, and 11 are three-manual instruments--the largest is a 50-stop instrument in St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Toronto, installed in 1983. Two have detached consoles, and four have combination actions with electric stop-action; all instruments have mechanical key action. The design and layout of instruments adhere to the principles of the classical tradition of German and French organbuilding. Three-manual instruments feature a large swell division, suitable for the performance of Anglican Church music and the Romantic repertoire.

All wooden pipes are made on the premises, along with almost one-half of the metal pipes that are handmade of a tin-lead alloy; other metal pipes are imported from Germany. Scaling and voicing are done in the classical open-toe manner for natural speech and mellow blend. Windchests and bellows, consoles and action, and cases are manufactured in a 9,000 sq. ft. workshop. Organs may have cases of contemporary design, or perhaps are more ornate with moldings and hand-carved pipe shades that are compatible with the architecture of the location. Blowers are acquired from Laukhuff, Germany; miscellaneous parts come from other suppliers. The firm does not engage in rebuilding or renovation but services and tunes its own instruments throughout North America. In 1998 the firm had five employees, all trained by Karl Wilhelm.

Wolff & Associés, Laval, Québec (1968)

Hellmuth Wolff was born in Zurich, Switzerland. While a teenager he apprenticed with Metzler & Söhne, Dietikon, Switzerland (1953-1957); in his spare time he built his first organ, a four-stop positiv instrument. He received additional training with G. A. C. de Graff, Amsterdam (1958-1960) and with Rieger Orgelbau, Schwarzach, Austria (1960-1962). In the United States (1962-1963) he worked with Otto Hofmann, in Austin, Texas, and Charles Fisk, in Gloucester, Massachusetts. After moving to Canada he worked with Casavant Frères (1963-1965) in its newly established tracker-action department, and then with Karl Wilhelm (1966-1968), with whom he had worked at Casavant. In the interval 1965-1966 he returned briefly to Europe to work as a designer and voicer with Manufacture d'orgues Genève, in Geneva. Besides playing the piano and singing in choirs wherever he went, he completed his musical training by taking organ lessons with Win Dalm in Amsterdam and later with Bernard Lagacé in Montréal.

In 1968 he opened his own business in Laval, Québec, with one employee; his present associate, James Louder, started his apprenticeship with Hellmuth Wolff in 1974, after training in classical guitar and English. The first large project undertaken in that year was the construction of a three-manual, 26-stop instrument at the Church of St. John the Evangelist, New York City; this was one of the city's first modern tracker-action organs and it incorporated features not yet seen in North America. In 1977 the company moved to a new shop; the firm became incorporated in 1981, and James Louder became a partner in 1988.

Hellmuth Wolff has been part of the Organ Reform in North America since the movement came to this continent in the early 1960s. He specializes in mechanical-action instruments, large and small, whose design is inspired by French or German classical traditions, although other styles are represented that are designed to accommodate a wide range of organ literature. A total of 42 organs have been manufactured; about one-half of these were installed in locations in the United States. While a few small residence or practice instruments have been built, the majority are two-manual organs, in addition to eight three-manual organs, and one four-manual, 50-stop/70-rank instrument installed in Christ Church Cathedral, Indianapolis, Indiana, in 1989.9 Other related activities include rebuilding, restoration, and maintenance work, chiefly in the Montréal area.

Wooden pipes are made on the premises, while metal pipes are acquired from several pipemakers in Canada, U.S.A., and Europe; some reeds are made there, also. Windchests, consoles, and cases are also manufactured on site. Blowers are acquired from Meidinger and Laukhuff in Germany. Several installations feature both mechanical stop-action and capture systems; the first was built in 1977 for the Eighth Church of Christ, Scientist, in New York City; it was probably the first such system in North America. Both sequencers and traditional multilevel capture systems are used. There were eight employees in 1998.

Hellmuth Wolff, along with his associate, James Louder, have contributed to symposiums and written publications on organs and organbuilding.10 Fourteen compact discs, featuring performances by Canadian and American artists on Wolff instruments, have been released, and three others are in preparation.11

Brunzema Organs, Fergus, Ontario (1979-1992)

Gerhard Brunzema was born in Emden, Germany, and grew up in Menden on the Ruhr river, a northern part of the country where there was an abundance of historic organs. After World War II he apprenticed with Paul Ott in Göttingen and worked with him as a journeyman organbuilder (1948-1952). He received extensive technical training, including acoustics, at the Brunswick State Institute for Physics and Technology (1953-1954), and received a Master's degree in organbuilding in 1955. In 1953 he joined the prominent European organbuilder Jürgen Ahrend in the construction and restoration of organs, some in Holland and Germany of great historical significance; this association continued for 18 years. After emigrating to Canada he joined Casavant Frères in 1972 and served as artistic director until 1979; during that time he was responsible for the design of several notable organs in Canada, the United States, Japan, and Australia, along with the restoration of a number of historic Casavant instruments in Ontario and Québec. His experience at Casavant gave him the opportunity to work with very large organs, an experience that was lacking in Germany.

In 1979 he established his own business in Fergus, Ontario. Throughout his career he specialized mainly in small, one-manual, four-stop, continuo organs (25 in all); most of his nine two-manual instruments--the largest was 25 stops--were made between 1985 and 1987. In 1990 he was joined by his son, Friedrich, who had completed his apprenticeship in Europe. Until the time of his death in 1992, Gerhard Brunzema's total output amounted to 41 instruments; of these, 20 were installed in Canadian locations (mainly in eastern provinces), 17 in the United States, one in the Philippines, one in South Korea, and two in European countries. The tonal design of his instruments was strongly influenced by Schnitger organs that he had studied and restored while in Europe. He believed that basic organ design cannot be learned through restoration work, because such instruments were conceived by others; nevertheless, in restorations the intentions of the original builders should be respected. As for new instruments, his philosophy was that "An organbuilder should choose a style and stay with it, so that he not only continues to develop his own skills, but also continues to help improve the skills of the people working for him. . . . Become a master of one thing, get over the initial difficulties very quickly, and then polish your knowledge, the details of which will finally add up to a very good result."12

Koppejan Pipe Organs, Chilliwack, British Columbia (1979)

Adrian Koppejan was born in Veenendaal, Holland, and apprenticed with his father, who was an organbuilder there. He worked with Friedrich Weigle in Echterdingen by Stuttgart, Germany (1963-1966), with Pels & Van Leeuwen in Alkmaar, Holland (1968-1972) as shop foreman of the mechanical organ department, and with his father's company, Koppejan Pipe Organs, in Ederveen, Holland (1968-1972). He moved to Canada in 1974 and established his own company five years later.

Adrian Koppejan strives for a clear, warm, but not loud sound in his instruments, a preference inspired by classical organs of North Germany. This sound palette is reflected in the instruments in which he specializes: small and medium-size tracker instruments; he has built five electromechanical organs, as well. His output to date consists of 19 organs; these have been installed in churches and private residences in British Columbia, Alberta, and Washington state. His largest organ is a three-manual, 31-stop, electromechanical instrument, with a MIDI system, installed in the Good Shepherd Church, White Rock, B.C., in 1995. An instrument of similar size was constructed in 1998. Rebuilding, restoration, maintenance, and tuning are also part of regular activities.

Wooden pipes are mostly acquired from Laukhuff, Germany; metal pipes come from Stinkens in Holland and Laukhuff in Germany. Keyboards are made in Germany by Laukhuff or Heuss. Winding mechanisms, consoles, solid oak cabinets, and casework are manufactured in the shop. Blowers are supplied by Laukhuff, and electrical control systems come from Peterson in the U.S.A. There were two part-time employees in 1998 as Adrian Koppejan reduced the scope of his operations in anticipation of retirement.

Orgues Létourneau,  Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec (1979)

Fernand Létourneau was born in Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec, where he worked for while as a carpenter before entering employment with Casavant Frères in 1965; there he apprenticed with his uncle, Jean-Paul Létourneau, who was head reed voicer. He remained with the company for 14 years, where he was head voicer from 1975 to 1978, when he decided to set up his own independent company. First, with the help of a Canada Council grant, he embarked on an organ tour of Europe to study the voicing of old masters. Upon his return to Canada in 1978 he began building organs in Sainte-Rosalie, Québec, and became incorporated in 1979. His first organ, a two-manual, 6-stop instrument, was started in the basement of the family house and then displayed in the shop of a cabinetmaker; it was later acquired by the Conservatoire de Musique du Québec, Hull, where dozens of students have learned to play the organ on this small instrument. In 1984 he moved back to Saint-Hyacinthe, where three other organbuilders were already established. The factory's first building was formerly a municipal water-filter plant; the partially underground space provided a room 35 feet in height, ideal for erecting organs. A second industrial building was acquired recently to supplement the original premises.

A total of 55 organs of various sizes have been built to 1998; 13 others are in progress. The great majority have mechanical action, utilizing classical principles used in European instruments, and with the flexibility provided by ranks inspired by Dom Bédos, Schnitger, and Cavaillé-Coll. The largest will be a four-manual, 101-stop, mechanical-action instrument intended for the Francis Winspear Centre, Edmonton, Alberta. International distribution has been common from the outset, beginning with three early instruments that were installed in Australian locations in the early 1980s (the builder had become known on account of his activities as a voicer of Casavant instruments in that country). Others have been placed in New Zealand, Austria, England (Pembroke College, Oxford, 1995; an instrument is under construction for the Tower of London for completion in late 1999), the United States (over one-third of the total production), and Canada (chiefly eastern provinces, a few in the west). The company now has permanent representatives in the United States, England, and New Zealand. Fernand Létourneau prefers to build instruments of eclectic tonal design that are suitable for the performance of a wide range of organ literature. Historic restorations have also been undertaken.

All organ components, with the exception of electronics, are made in the factory, including wooden and metal pipes to 32-foot length, keyboards, consoles, and casework. Blowers are acquired from Laukhuff, Germany. Middle-size organs are equipped with electronic sequencers, card readers, and similar devices. The company is constantly engaged in rebuilding and restoring instruments of different vintages to original condition, about 50 to date, several of which have been designated as historical or heritage instruments. In 1998 there were 45 full-time staff in the Létourneau "family," of which a number are related to one another as father-son/daughter, uncle, brother, cousin, and husband-wife.  

         

Christ Church Cathedral, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

Herbert L. Huestis

Herbert L. Huestis is a graduate of the Eastman School of Music, where he studied organ with David Craighead 40 years ago. After a stint as a full-time church organist, he studied psychology and education at the University of Idaho, where be obtained his Ph.D. in 1971. He spent time as a school psychologist, and was subsequently lured back into the organ world and took up pipe organ maintenance with his wife Marianne and son Warren. Now retired, he spends more time tuning pianos and reconditioning harpsichords.

Christ Church Cathedral, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, and the Westfield Center, Orcas, Washington, presented an international conference entitled “Central/Southern European influences on Bach,” June 7–10, 2006. The conference celebrated the new cathedral organ by Hellmuth Wolff, Laval, Quebec, Canada, and honored organ virtuoso, historian and teacher, Harald Vogel, Osterholz-Scharmbeck, Germany.

The Westfield Center

The Westfield Center is a national resource for the advancement of keyboard music, serving professionals and the public since 1979. In pursuit of this goal, they host symposia to celebrate major instruments of our day, and have sponsored more than 30 conferences. This year they met in Victoria to honor the career of Harald Vogel, noted organist and scholar, and a new organ built by Hellmuth Wolff for Christ Church Cathedral, Victoria, British Columbia.

The new Wolff organ

I have dubbed this organ of 60 stops a “singing organ” because it stands nearly alone in its ability to bring to life the vocal effects and Italianate characteristics that infused the music of Bach and his predecessors. For Hellmuth Wolff, the creation of this organ was no small accomplishment. In fact, this masterpiece caps a career that is filled with instruments of artistic merit.
Delicate and well-balanced voicing is a hallmark of Wolff organs, and in this case the organ matches the room perfectly. Wolff has a reverence for historical organs and is able to build in various styles for his clients and the contemporary buildings they offer. The musical requirements of Christ Church, Victoria, and inclinations of the builder came together when a design was chosen that followed the work of builders such as Holzhey and Riepp, who were linked to French, German, and Italian organ building practices in the 18th century.
Hellmuth Wolff established his firm in 1968, after serving his apprenticeship in Switzerland with Metzler and continuing as a journeyman with Otto Hoffman in Texas and Charles Fisk in Massachusetts. In Canada, Wolff worked with Casavant Frères in the development of their mechanical-action workshop and subsequently worked in collaboration with Karl Wilhelm until he started his own workshop in Laval, Quebec. There, he heads an elite group of organbuilders who participated in the design and construction of this organ over a period of several years.
The organ comprises 61 stops, located in five divisions, including the pedal. Three manual divisions begin with 16' sub octaves, while the pedal has two stops at 32' pitch. There is an abundance of unison tone on every level, and the harmonics of the pipework are enhanced by both third- and fifth-sounding mixtures spread over four keyboards. Wolff was able to integrate character and variety into an extremely broad ensemble while at the same time emulating vibrant examples of organ style from times past. This sense of integration is perhaps the strongest aspect of Wolff’s art.
Spatial variety is a very strong characteristic of this organ. The wide case with Hauptwerk split on either side and Oberwerk in the center provided unique opportunities for registration at many volume levels by combining these two divisions into a large ensemble or playing them separately. The Rückpositiv lies well forward of the rest of the instrument and speaks directly to the listener, creating a clear, three-dimensional sound.
The variety of stops is compelling, both in flues and reeds. All are voiced with a sense of just the right volume so that interplay between stops is remarkably well balanced. Trumpets of all national styles are available on each keyboard and pedal, providing a tonal palette seen in few organs. Wolff has an intuitive sense of proportion in the placement of these reeds, so that volume and stylistic variation work very musically. He has taken great care in the selection of pipework to amplify his concept of the Holzhey organ style found in southern Germany in the late 18th century.

The conference

The conference topic, “South/Central Influences on J. S. Bach,” grew out of advances in musical scholarship and organology that have increased the understanding of influences of Pachelbel, Frescobaldi, Kerll and others on the music of Bach. The celebration of the work of Harald Vogel reaches to the beginnings of the Westfield Center, founded by two of his early students, Lynn Edwards Butler and Edward Pepe. This all culminates in the largest publication of the Westfield Center to date: Orphei Organi Antiqui: Essays in Honor of Harald Vogel. This Festschrift brings together 21 articles and essays that delineate the Vogel personality as well as performance practice, improvisation, congregational singing, organ restoration and organ culture. This work was edited by Cleveland Johnson, professor of music history and dean of the School of Music at DePauw University. Harald Vogel’s legacy as a teacher was outlined by Elizabeth Harrison, assistant professor of music at Westminster College in New Wilmington, Pennsylvania. She gave an inside look at the North German Organ Academy, the founding of which she described as his most pivotal accomplishment.

Recitals

One should note that there are two audiences who have interest in an event such as this, “those who were seen and those who were unseen.” For those who heard this amazing instrument and the recitalists who presented this organ literature in a vital way, this report may serve to crystallize the event itself. For those who were not able to attend, it is hoped that some idea of the freshness and originality of these players will be communicated.
It is invigorating to see how a group of players could present varied aspects of this unusual organ in such a concerted way. Harald Vogel praised the instrument as one of the finest of its type in the world, and each artist contributed a unique vision to the celebration of this organ. One had the feeling that all recitalists read from a similar script, with great attention paid to Southern influences on German music.
William Porter, professor of organ and harpsichord at the Eastman School of Music, presented the inaugural concert with a fresh idea that served the symposium very well. He designed his concert after the style that Bach himself used when he played, as described by Forkel, his biographer. This showcases the instrument rather than the repertoire. Porter has a strong reputation as an improviser, which led him in this direction for the concert. He maintained that “since the repertoire of the 17th and 18th centuries has its roots in improvisational practice,” he could take the opportunity to show off all the colors of the organ. Italian influences were immediately apparent, and Porter, like all of the recitalists, concentrated on variation and ciacona forms.
Michael Gormley, Christ Church Cathedral organist, and Erica Johnson, a student of Hans Davidsson, Eastman School of Music, continued the concert series with an exploration of the breadth of the instrument and a further presentation of Italianate aspects of the music and instrument. Johnson explored the concerto style and played with a lightness and delicacy that characterized subsequent recitals. Her theme for the recital was the dance—both in her playing style and aspects of the musical styles of Italy and Germany. She characterized this as a “pas de deux” where Italy led and Germany followed. Indeed, Italian influences on German music were the order of the day.
Harald Vogel continued these ideas with toccatas, canzonas, a spectacular battaglia and the famous Capriccio Cucu of Johann Kerll. His program reached a zenith with intense colors found in his interpretation of the second Biblical Sonata of Johann Kuhnau. In this organ he found a tonal palette with which to characterize the depression and madness of Saul as Kuhnau envisioned it. Beauty was everywhere, but more than that, the organ could communicate real emotion, passion and feeling, even fear and anxiety.
Edoardo Bellotti, who teaches organ, harpsichord, and continuo playing in Trossingen, Germany, and Bergamo, Italy, brought these recitals to a climax with a presentation of Frescobaldi, Pachelbel and Bach. By limiting his repertoire to three composers, he was able to explore the styles of variation, toccata and ciacona, building in the listener an expectation of both floridity and drive culminating in a rendition of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue full tilt, with no resorting to the usual registrational variation in the Passacaglia. His performance was so musically varied, and the organ so clear and delicate in its ensemble that he could play the whole piece in a continuous, driving plenum. He was so convincing in this performance that he gave immediate credence to statements that Harald Vogel had made, that organists are often the victims of “bad traditions,” which they must rethink in order to fully appreciate this music.
The final concert was a mix of vocal and organ works in which Michael Gormley, director of the CapriCCio Vocal Ensemble (of Christ Church Cathedral, Victoria) and Carole Terry, professor of organ at University of Washington, Seattle, stood the conference topic on its head and presented a concert entitled “Bach influences on Central/South Europe.” These included vocal works of Mozart, Bruckner, and Reger, among others. Dr. Terry made a final and climactic statement of what the organ could do with masterful renditions of the works of Max Reger. Reger’s music gave a final contrapuntal and harmonic lushness to the sound of this organ, whose 60 stops exhibited a monumental heroism. Again, it seemed that all of the recitalists had similar goals: to show the full effect of this magnificent new organ and to trace the beauty of the musical styles that made their way from Italy to Germany in the 17th and 18th centuries and beyond.
These musical influences were further elaborated in noontime recitals by Colin Tilney, harpsichordist, and Ulrika Davidsson, fortepianist. Tilney explored the Italianate forms and Davidsson followed J. S. Bach’s influence through C. P. E. Bach to Joseph Haydn.

Keynote addresses

The academic side of the symposium centered on the presentation of a Festschrift, Orphei Organi Antiqui by Cleveland Johnson, to Harald Vogel on the occasion of his 65th birthday. The publication (“Orpheus of the Historic Organ”) is a collection of 21 articles and essays. It features writings about Vogel as teacher, performer and scholar, and deals with keyboard literature, performance practice, improvisation, congregational singing, organ restoration and organ culture.
Harald Vogel took the opportunity in his keynote address to open up some very interesting concepts regarding organ culture. He examined “organ tradition” and outlined some rather subjective but important considerations. The most notable of these seemed to be the idea that somehow “traditions” were carried from Bach through the 19th and 20th centuries unbroken, when in fact, they are deeply flawed in terms of playing style, registration and type of instrument. He appealed to his listeners to look toward historical evidence to make decisions regarding playing style, rather than rely on old traditions that have been passed through many teachers and students, with all the attendant changes in organ culture, of each period of time and style of instrument.
Lynn Edwards Butler also presented a keynote address on the general topic of organ examinations, which harkened back to the celebration of the Paul Fritts organ at Arizona State University and the topic of “The Historical Organ” presented in 1993.
In a third keynote address, Keith Hill, the noted harpsichord maker, took a look at the psychological aspects of artistic performance in a topic called “The Craft of Musical Communication.” This is a difficult subject, and he was able to create the imagery to help his audience grasp important concepts involved in music making. He outlined various building blocks of artistic performance so that some analysis could be made of performers and their art. A certain objectivity was welcome in an area that is almost always purely subjective!
Masterclasses were provided by the artists, and of course there was the joy of discovering all the various aspects of the organ and its construction. Michael Gormley and the cathedral staff were most gracious, and the setting in the provincial capital of British Columbia was magnificent. From a meeting in the parliament buildings on the first day to high tea on the last, there was the constant infusion of Canadian culture and magnificent weather, found only on this enchanted isle on the west coast of North America. I suppose the only thing that can be said is “You should have been there!--Herbert L. Huestis

Improvisation jam session

For many of us the culmination of the symposium was the jam-session of the three improvisers by name of Vogel, Porter and Bellotti. The demonstration was divided into three parts, first the reeds, second the solo possibilities and then the different organo pleno possibilities.
Harold Vogel demonstrated the many different reed stops—there are six trumpets at 8' pitch, four reed stops at 16', and one 32' Posaune, besides softer reed stops, such as Hautbois, Krummhorn, Schalmey and Vox humana. The sound of the latter, a Voix Humaine after Dom Bédos, can easily be coloured by adding flutes at different pitches. Mr. Vogel’s improvisation was haute voltige—flying high, through all kinds of places unheard of—and concluded his flight with the glorious roar of the trumpets!
A good number of the organ’s solo possibilities where shown through William Porter’s delightful and poetic improvisations. The various flutes and strings—typical for organs of Southern Germany and Austria—and the mutations (there is a jeux de tierce in every keyboard division, except for the Swell) were shown in a single piece, wonderfully constructed by a great player.
One could have thought that demonstrating the mixtures might be a much more arduous task, but Edoardo Bellotti brought us to new heights with his magnificent demonstration.
Each organist was an inspired Orpheus, playing with great power and imagination—and each of them should have received an Olympic trophy!
—Hellmuth Wolff

Andrew Scanlon

The following conversation, conducted both in person and by telephone in March 2013, explores the career of one of America’s most eminent musicians and teachers, Ann Labounsky. Dr. Labounsky was my undergraduate organ teacher at Duquesne University, and she is now in her 44th year as professor and chair of sacred music and organ at that same institution. Some years after completing graduate study and working in church music, I had the privilege of returning to Duquesne as a faculty member, teaching alongside Dr. Labounsky for four years. We maintain a close collaboration, and therefore, I have been in the unique situation of knowing Dr. Labounsky on several levels since we first met in New York City at the 1996 American Guild of Organists Centennial Convention. As a teacher, mentor, colleague, and friend, Ann has challenged, encouraged, and supported me in many ways. In this interview, we discuss Ann’s life and career. Several life chapters particularly dominate our discussion: Ann’s student days at Eastman as a pupil of the young David Craighead, and the full circle of Ann and David’s long friendship; Ann’s time as a Fulbright scholar in Paris, studying organ under André Marchal, Jean Langlais, and Marcel Dupré; and finally, Ann’s inimitable teaching career in Pittsburgh. 

 

 

Andrew Scanlon: When people ask me why I decided to learn to play the organ, I most often reply, “Actually, the organ chose me!” Most of your life has been devoted to the organ. What was your first encounter with the organ, and when did the organ first “choose you?”

Ann Labounsky: As a young girl, our family was living in Port Washington, Long Island, and my mother used to take me to a Methodist church across the street from our home. This was before I could read; and I must have heard the pipe organ, but I don’t have much of a memory of it.

Later, we attended Christ Church (Episcopal) in Oyster Bay, where Paul Sifler (also a composer) was the organist-choirmaster. My mother, my brother, and I all sang in the choir, and it was then that I became interested. I was fascinated by the way Paul played. I would come early for choir rehearsals or lessons to watch him practice. I began studying the organ with Sifler at age 15. He was a very good teacher for me, and I loved his compositions. One summer, I went away to a camp, where I couldn’t play the organ for about two weeks, and I missed it so much. I think at that stage, I knew I would be an organist.

 

The conventional wisdom seems to be that before learning the organ, a strong piano background is useful, even essential. Were you already accomplished on the piano? 

My piano teacher in high school was John LaMontaine, Paul Sifler’s partner. He was also a wonderful composer and had a great command of technique. He followed the Tobias Matthay school of relaxation. I would take the train to go to their apartment on 57th Street in New York to take the lessons. It was he who encouraged me to go to Eastman. 

 

Since your piano teacher encouraged you to apply to the Eastman School of Music, did you audition on both piano and organ? What was required for the audition?

Yes, we were required to perform on both instruments. For the organ portion, I remember playing Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 6, but can’t remember which Bach I played. I do recall that I played a recital my senior year of high school and had played Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor and Wir glauben all an einen Gott on that recital, so I must have played one of those works. For the piano portion, they required that you know all scales and arpeggios, as well as the performance of a work by Bach and a Beethoven sonata. I was very nervous for the audition.

 

Before you went to Eastman, what, if anything, did you know of David Craighead? Did you want to study with him, or were you taking the advice of your teachers?

Well, no; actually, I didn’t know anything about David Craighead. But John LaMontaine had studied at Eastman, and he thought it was a very good school. He wanted me to study with Eastman’s piano teacher, George MacNabb. (It was from MacNabb that I learned the Brahms Fifty-one Exercises, which I still use.) Paul Sifler thought that Catharine Crozier would have been a good organ teacher for me, and I looked into studying with her. However, by the time I entered Eastman as a freshman, Crozier had already left the Eastman faculty for Rollins College in Florida. 

 

Did you audition anywhere else besides Eastman?

No. It always makes me laugh now, because these days, students audition at several schools. But for some reason, I didn’t.

 

Had you given any thought to what might happen if you didn’t get in?

No, that didn’t occur to me! 

 

In 1957, you moved upstate from Long Island and began your new life in Rochester. What are your memories of those undergraduate years? 

Eastman was a wonderful school. For many years, I stayed in close touch with the friends that I made there because we all struggled together. It was very demanding; in fact, I had nightmares. I was so afraid that I wouldn’t do well enough and that David Craighead would make me study with Norman Peterson, the secondary teacher! 

 

Can you recall your close friends and colleagues from that time?

Some dear colleagues included Bill Stokes, Joanna Tousey, Bill Haller, Maggie Brooks, Bruce Lederhouse, Jim Johnson, Gretchen Frauenberger, and Robert Town. Roberta Gary was working on her doctorate and David Mulberry was a senior, but they were beyond me. They were the great legends at the time!

 

How many students were studying organ then?

I think there may have been about ten—smaller compared to what it is now. 

 

Can you recall periods of particular growth in your playing during the Eastman days, or conversely, any precise struggles?

I don’t recall any struggles specifically; everything was difficult. We had to have all our repertoire memorized. I would get very nervous before performances. I wish that I would have found a way to get over that more easily, as I look back now. But all of this contributed to my growth as a musician. 

 

When you arrived at Eastman, in the studio of David Craighead, he was still fairly new to Eastman’s faculty, correct?

Yes, he had arrived in 1955, and I entered in 1957. He always told me this funny story about when I first arrived. Evidently I went up to his office and knocked on his door and introduced myself. I said, “I’m Ann Labounsky: Ann without the ‘E’!” David said he always remembered that.

 

What was Craighead like as a teacher in 1957? What aspects of learning did he emphasize as a young teacher?

He was always very precise. At that time in his life, he was rather nervous, quite inhibited. He would tell you all the things that were not right, but you always wanted to strive to do better in the next lesson. We spent a lot of time on the registration. He used the Bonnet Historical Anthology of Music, which was highly edited, and not a good edition. He used the Seth Bingham edition of Couperin’s music and I hated that music back then; it wasn’t until I went to Paris to study with [André] Marchal that I knew what it all meant!

 

That anecdote reminds us of how David Craighead evolved tremendously, over the years, both as teacher and a performer.

He did. I remember seeing him some years later, perhaps in the early 1970s. He had come to perform in Pittsburgh, and we attended the Pittsburgh Symphony together. He spoke of the Offertoire from Couperin’s Mass for the Parishes, and how he had learned about the notes inégales. For Bach, we changed registration frequently and each change was well marked in the score. Also, phrasing was carefully marked. Craighead was meticulous about every detail, but was patient in working with us until we got it right. He was most effective when he would quickly slide onto the bench to demonstrate a passage.

 

Can you remember your degree recitals?

They were all in Kilbourne Hall on the Skinner organ. For my senior recital, I played the Bach Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, and of course, a lot of American music. David Craighead loved the music of Sowerby. I played Sowerby’s famous Arioso, which was gorgeous on that organ. At Eastman, there was a kind of “shopping list” of music that we all had to work on. Ironically, when we got to Langlais’ music, I hated it! I had performed some of the Hommage à Frescobaldi, and I didn’t like it at all! I also remember playing in the weekly performance class in preparation for my senior recital. At one such class, having completed a play-through of the Bach “A Minor,” I remember David Craighead saying, “That was bloody but unbowed!” 

 

When you were wrapping up your days at Eastman, did David Craighead advise you about what you should do in terms of furthering your education?

David Craighead was very different from Russell Saunders, who told the students exactly what they should do. David took a far more hands-off approach. He gave his students the confidence to make their own decisions. I thought about staying at Eastman for my master’s degree, but decided to go to the University of Michigan. It turned out to be a very good thing to do that, as I would meet my future husband, Lewis Steele, at Michigan.

 

After four years at the Eastman School, I imagine that you had a much broader sense of the organ world, and you knew what you wanted?

I certainly knew that I wanted to go on to earn a master’s degree, but at that time, I didn’t know much about church music or improvisation. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, except that I wanted to learn music.

 

In few words, can you summarize the church music curriculum at Eastman in those days?

It didn’t exist! 

 

Your next move was from Rochester to Ann Arbor. Tell us about what life was like at the University of Michigan in 1961.

In those days, the president of the AGO was Roberta Bitgood. She did a wonderful thing for the new students at U. of M. When we got off the train in Detroit, she met all the students. She had gathered members of the clergy from churches in the area that were looking for organists. She introduced all of us, and as a result, I began a church job right away in Dearborn, Michigan, about an hour from Ann Arbor. 

U. of M. was a very different school than ESM. My teacher there was Marilyn Mason. Mason was less of a teacher for me, but more of a coach. David Craighead had really formed my technique—so she didn’t have to work on that. We worked on musical details and interpretation. We always had our lessons on the organ in Hill Auditorium.

 

Were there other organ teachers?

Yes. Ray Ferguson and Robert Noehren were on the faculty at that time. 

 

Besides organ playing, were there any other memorable aspects of the Michigan graduate degree program that helped you grow?

The courses at Michigan were wonderful! I especially recall Hans David the musicologist, and Louise Cuyler, and I learned a great deal from both of them.

 

You mentioned that you also met your husband while at Michigan?

Yes, I earned the degree in one year and two summers, and I was getting ready to play my recital. I met Lewis Steele on the steps of Marilyn Mason’s studio. I needed soloists to sing in my church every Sunday since we didn’t have a summer choir. I heard his resonant voice, and asked him to sing a solo. That’s how our romance started! 

 

Would you care to elaborate?

Well, three children and four grandchildren later, we are very happy together. 

I could never have done the things I have done without Lewis’s support. He always said that in a marriage, it’s not a 50/50 partnership, rather it’s 100/100. You have to give all of yourself, all the time. He did so much in raising the children. I had no idea even how to change diapers. He taught me. So many of the things I didn’t have (for example, expertise in theology, scripture, choral directing), Lewis did have. It has been a wonderful partnership over the years. I always remember what Marilyn Mason said: “I’d marry him for his laugh!”

 

Can you sum up the church music curriculum at U. of M. in those days?

They had two tracks. You could earn the MM in organ, which I did, or the MM in church music. However, it seemed to me that the only difference was you didn’t have to memorize the recital if you were in the church music track. All students took Robert Noehren’s course in organ building, which I almost failed! You had to know the composition of mixtures, which was too much for me! He was a very good teacher, though. He had a significant influence in the organ department there at that time. 

 

As your time wound up in Michigan, the next big step would be the Fulbright process. What were you doing in Michigan to prepare for the program in France?

By the time I got to Michigan, I knew I wanted to go to France for additional study. In fact, I had applied for a Fulbright while still an Eastman student, but I didn’t get it. I applied a second time while at U. of M. I had been passionate about the French language and was determined that I would go to France one way or another. Every week, I would get together with Deedee Wotring, one of André Marchal’s former students. We would meet for coffee, and she would force me to speak French! 

 

But your love of France and the French language had begun long before Michigan, through your beloved Aunt Julia, correct?

I’m glad you mentioned Julia. You knew her and played at her funeral. She had studied art in Paris after the war, and following her arrival back home in New York, she spent every weekend with us in Long Island. Julia was determined to teach me how to speak French! My father (a geologist and engineer who worked on the Manhattan Project) was Russian, his second language being English. I was determined I was going to Paris to study, even if I had to be an au pair. 

In April, having applied for a Fulbright, saying I wanted to study with Marchal, but not yet knowing my fate, I went to a recital at St. Thomas Church Fifth Avenue, performed by Jean Langlais, whom I met for the first time. I told him I had played his Miniature on my graduate recital at the University of Michigan, and that I hoped to soon be in Paris studying. He replied that he hoped he would see me! When I returned home to Long Island from that recital, I found out I had gotten the Fulbright grant! That was such a great blessing to be able to go, with everything paid for; it was just a marvelous thing. 

I should speak a little bit about how we got to France. The first time we went over was on the “Queen Mary,” and on the “France” a number of times. It took five days, and there was no jet lag, because each day you changed the clocks only one hour. It was a wonderful way to travel. Ruth Woods (Harris) and I went together, both studying with Marchal on a Fulbright grant. We remain close friends.

 

Though you are perhaps best known as the leading American disciple of Jean Langlais, when you set off for France, your initial intent was to study with André Marchal, and you did. Tell us about studying with Marchal.

When I heard Marchal play for the first time, it was at Oberlin. He played in a way I had never heard anyone else play. Each line breathed. I heard music differently when he played, and I wanted to learn what he knew. Fortunately, my French was good enough that I didn’t need a translator, but his daughter Jacqueline often translated for the other students. Lessons were in his home at 22 Rue Duroc. I also wanted to study improvisation. Even though Marchal improvised very well, at that time he no longer taught improvisation. He said: “Well, you may study improvisation with Langlais.”

You must understand about the teachers all over Europe at that time: they were very possessive of their students. You were not able to simply study with anyone you wanted; definitely not several teachers! You went abroad to study with ONE teacher. I studied organ repertoire with Marchal, but Marchal gave me his permission to study with Langlais. After that time, while continuing to study with Marchal, I would then go to Ste. Clotilde in the evenings for my lessons with Langlais, which was wonderful. Playing on the organ that Franck, Tournemire, and Langlais knew so well, and hearing their music on that instrument, made all the difference in learning that music.

 

What musical facet did Marchal underscore the most in how to play the organ?

The touch. He had a way of phrasing each line independently. And he had such a concept of the whole piece. I remember working on Bach’s great Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor (BWV 542) with him. He had the whole piece completely engraved in his mind—every voice. It was amazing to me that this blind man knew music so well. For example, if you used a fingering that was not effective, he could tell!

 

You mentioned having studied Couperin as an undergraduate at Eastman. I know that with his interest in early music, Marchal would make the classical French school an essential part of what you studied. How did your point of view evolve with respect to this music?

Marchal just knew that music. I don’t know how—because he had studied with Gigout, and of course, everyone was playing completely legato then. Marchal attributed his style of playing to studying the harpsichord, saying that as a result, he had learned a different way of playing. And in the 1960s, no one else was playing like that. We usually associate Marie-Claire Alain as a leader in the early music revival for the organ—but even in the 1940s when Marie Claire Alain was very young, it was Marchal who was the first great leader in this movement. There was something about the way he played that helped me understand that “this is how you play!” With Marchal, I studied all Couperin, as well as all the music of de Grigny, Clérambault, Daquin, etc.

 

I recall from other conversations over the years that you recall practicing constantly during the time you were in France. You learned a great deal of music—how much repertoire did you absorb in two years?

In addition to all I mentioned just above, with Marchal, I studied all the Bach trio sonatas, all the big preludes and fugues—tons of repertoire! With Langlais I studied all of Franck’s music, much of Tournemire, and other pieces, too. In terms of how lessons worked, with Marchal (and Donald Wilkins said it was the same with Duruflé), you brought in a piece to a lesson, one of these big pieces, and they told you everything you needed to know. If you brought in the same piece again to another lesson, they said, “Well, I already told you everything I know about it last week!” We knew that we wouldn’t be there forever with those brilliant musicians. Our goal was to cover as much repertoire as possible in the shortest amount of time.

 

Do you still play the pieces you studied with Marchal or Langlais the same way as when you learned them? Or do you perform them differently now?

Wonderful question. I think that the spirit is the same; some things changed a little. I’m constantly trying to think in a fresh way, but the spirit of what I learned from Langlais and Marchal has stayed with me.

 

Concerning Marchal’s teaching, did he have any idiosyncrasies?

Many have said of Marchal that if a student was not gifted, he would be very lenient with that student; but the more diligent a student was, he would be much more strict. And that certainly was true. One funny story was about phrasing in one of the trio sonatas. I had asked why he played it that particular way, and he thought for a long time. After quite a long period of silence, finally he answered: “Because it pleases me!”

 

Many people are very well acquainted with your work and expertise on the music and the life of Jean Langlais. Much of this information can be learned from your book, Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music (Amadeus Press, 2000), as well as from the liner notes on your CD recordings. Would you share with us, in a broad sense, what it was like to be Langlais’ pupil, and how that relationship developed over many years?

Langlais was extremely supportive. He always made you feel that you could do anything! If you made a mistake, he knew, but he was just thinking about the music. Always so encouraging and supportive, he was continually trying to find places for his students to play, and to help them in whatever way he could. As I learned his music, I became more and more interested, and I wanted to learn as much as I could. 

 

Over the years, how much cumulative time did you study with Langlais?

I have no idea. I usually had a weekly lesson on Wednesday evenings, when the church was closed. In addition to that, on Saturday afternoons, we were at the Schola Cantorum, and that’s where we worked on improvisation. Over the years, I returned many more times to study.

 

After remaining in France for an extra year, what path did your career take upon returning to the States?

Langlais asked me to be his guide for his fall 1964 American tour, and I did that. Shortly thereafter, I took a job in a very large Roman Catholic church in New Hyde Park, Long Island. I had a choir of men and boys that I had to develop and direct. That was hard work. 

 

How did you end up in Pittsburgh? Did you move there to take up your position as organ teacher at Duquesne University?

In 1967, Lewis and I moved to Pittsburgh to take up a joint church position at Brentwood Presbyterian Church. Lewis was the choir director, and I was the organist. We had only one child, six months old. Two years later, in 1969, the head of graduate studies at Duquesne University called and asked if I would like to teach organ at Duquesne—but I had never heard of Duquesne! Honestly, I was not thinking about teaching in a college and university. I had done some private teaching, but had not thought beyond that. I wanted to be a church musician and recitalist. Looking back on it, I don’t know why I hadn’t considered university teaching. I was busy at the church and raising our kids. So, in 1969, I began teaching part-time, and it initially cost our family money for me to teach at Duquesne, because I had to pay for child care! At that time, there was a degree program in organ, but no sacred music program or sacred music courses. 

In 1972, around the time of the birth of our third child, the dean of Duquesne’s school of music at the time, Gerald Keenan, called me into his office and said they wanted to hire me full-time. After that time, I was the only organ teacher.

 

What was your strategy for building up the sacred music degree programs at Duquesne? 

I didn’t really have a strategy. I worked slowly, adding courses as it made sense. Even before I was full-time, I had brought Jeanne Joulain to Pittsburgh for a recital and workshop—in that way, I was already developing a tradition of guest artists. The first class that I started was the “Service Playing” course. I was always interested in improvisation, having studied it with Langlais, and I had won the very first AGO improvisation competition in 1966 in Atlanta. I began an improvisation course, focusing on rather simple aspects of improvisation. 

For a few years, we moved along slowly, trying to figure out the curriculum and course requirements. In 1976, the 25th year of the Duquesne School of Music, I decided that Langlais should come to Duquesne. This coincided with the official establishment of the sacred music degree programs. While Langlais was in residence, we awarded him an honorary doctorate, and we had a whole week of concerts featuring premieres of his music. This started things off in a huge way, attracting a lot of national attention. Gradually, more and more students wanted to come to Duquesne, continuing over the years. I couldn’t say in what specific year things really blossomed. Another aspect of our program’s emphasis in church music came after I realized there had been a huge void in the Catholic Church after the Second Vatican Council—no choirs, no hymnals, a very low level of music. I saw that Duquesne had a responsibility and an opportunity to take a lead in this area. The dean, Robert Egan, agreed with me, and we worked for several years on strengthening the program. I called many people at different universities to see what other programs were offering. In those early days, I taught all the courses myself, as we didn’t have that many students. 

 

For many years, you have been a serious campaigner for the cause of the AGO certification program. From where did your advocacy of this program emerge?

Initially from Walter Hilse. I met Walter while we were both students in Paris. Walter, also from New York, was studying composition with Nadia Boulanger and organ with Maurice Duruflé. On Wednesday afternoons, Boulanger taught an analysis class for foreigners at her apartment, for which she had a huge following. She had a small house organ, having been a student of Vierne. Students would play pieces (Fauré, for example), and then she would pull the pieces apart and ask questions. She was a huge personality. I still have the scores. (We had to buy the ones she was going to discuss.) At these classes, Walter Hilse encouraged me to become certified. I distinctly remember him saying “You really should take the AAGO [Associate of the AGO] exam.” He has always been a huge promoter of the exams and has had many private students. Anne Wilson and Todd Wilson, for example, prepared for the exams with Walter. While my husband and I were still living on Long Island, I decided to do this. Once I began teaching at Duquesne University, it occurred to me that those skills were so vital to all students, that they should be learning these skills while studying for university degrees. 

 

Did the desire to help students become fluent with keyboard skills such as those tested on the AGO exams prompt you to require the AGO exams as part of the sacred music degrees at Duquesne?

In the early 1980s, I was on the National Committee on Professional Certification. Only one other school in the country was making it a requirement to take the exams. So, I decided to initiate the exams at Duquesne. When you tell people they have to do it, then they just do! Not everyone passed, and people took different exams, depending on their level of expertise. I met many wonderful people on that committee, including Max Miller, Sister Theophane Hytrek, John Walker, and David Schuler, for example. Different years, various others rotated on and off that committee, such as Todd Wilson. 

 

When did you ultimately attempt the Fellowship exam? 

Since I had already made the exams a degree requirement at DU, and I was the National Councillor for Education, I decided that it was time. You can’t just say to someone, “you should do this!”—you need to set an example. During a very busy time, when I had three children, was teaching full time, playing recitals, and was on the national board, I worked with two former students in Pittsburgh, John Miller and Robert Kardasz, to prepare together for the FAGO. Eventually, we all passed! It gave Pittsburgh more people with the FAGO diploma, where previously only Charles Heaton and Don Wilkins had earned it. We needed more highly certified people for a city our size.

 

Why do you consider it so important to take the certification exams?

There are a number of reasons:

1) In order to keep growing you need both long-term and short-term goals. As a student, it’s a short-term goal. Before earning a degree, it helps you have a point of arrival.

2) After my student, John Henninger, graduated from Duquesne, he went on to Westminster Choir College for graduate school and had applied for a church job in Princeton. He had passed the CAGO while at Duquesne, and he was appointed to the job because of having the Colleague Certificate. 

3) The exams represent a very structured way of testing both theoretical and practical skill. You can work at your own pace, and everybody I know who has done this, whether or not they have passed, has profited by it. It seems like a natural thing to do this, when you consider that so many other professions offer certification.

4) Earning an AGO certificate is a way that we show we’re at a certain level in our profession.

5) Earning certification does level the playing field and sets a high standard.

Our professional organization is extremely important. I get upset with people who complain about aspects of degree programs, churches, even the AGO—when the only thing you can do is to get right in the trenches to make things better!

 

Several graduates of Duquesne have gone on to earn the highest AGO certification. How has that made
you feel?

Very proud. You [Andrew Scanlon] being one of them, and now even serving on the national exam committee—that has made me especially proud. My current colleague, Ben Cornelius-Bates, has recently earned the FAGO also. 

 

Reflecting on your almost 45 years of teaching at Duquesne, how would you say your teaching and playing has evolved?

On teaching, David Craighead always said that you learn so much from your students, and I really have. In the beginning, I felt I didn’t know much, but I learned along the way. I found some things that worked well, and I fought the scars of things that didn’t work well. I have found it important to document what each student does. Recently, I got a computer in my studio, and using the “Blackboard” tool has been transformative. I have begun taking notes for each lesson and posting them for each student to view.

In the early days of my teaching, I was still very much in the mode of the teachers I learned from in Paris—Langlais, Marchal, and Dupré. They were very directive. They told you exactly what they wanted you to do. Initially, I taught the way they taught, because it was so fresh in my mind. As things have evolved, I have wanted to help each student find his own voice. I might not always agree with the student, but feel strongly that it’s in the best interest of each student to let them develop their own musical instincts. 

Ironically, when I performed all the recitals that Langlais had organized for me, I still felt I was his student. Langlais said, “You have to do this the way you want to do it.” But he had not taught that way. For example, he was known for saying so emphatically in his teaching that “Franck is tremendously free—just like this!” In improvisation, he taught the Thème libre, which, of course, is not free at all!

As you grow older, you grow in wisdom. You learn a lot from your children, also. They keep you humble, and they really tell you when you mess up! 

When I look at David Craighead, I keep thinking of how he was when I first studied with him at Eastman. Then, he was a new teacher. I had the joy of knowing him so well for the last 14 years of his life, and he had changed so much. He started by telling the students when they had made mistakes, but ended up changing lives. I try to do that too. I try to be a mentor, to do everything I possibly can to encourage my pupils, and help them get along well together. Music school can be almost like a monastery, when you’re all working together, and it’s so important to have a good rapport with your colleagues, to show great compassion for one another. 

Secondly, in answer to your question about my own playing, several things have contributed to the way I have played over the years. One of these was earning my Ph.D. in musicology, and beginning my biography of Langlais as the dissertation. All my years of teaching, the wisdom I gained from colleagues such as Robert Sutherland Lord and Don Franklin, making all the Langlais recordings—all of that contributed to the evolution of my playing. Other factors include the 1985 Bach Year, when I was asked to play an all-Bach recital on the Beckerath organ at St. Paul’s Cathedral in Pittsburgh. I changed my approach to Bach playing, using all toes, and different fingering. Change was in the air at that time. 

 

Have there been still more recent developments?

Yes. I have been working with Don Franklin on the tempo relationships in Bach preludes and fugues. We have been looking back to Kirnberger’s tempo relationships. I am constantly trying to learn more. If you have everything figured out, you may as well just retire, and I’m certainly not ready to retire!

In addition, after being asked a few years ago to do a peer review of a string methods class, I became fascinated with the violin. I realized that I had always wanted to play the violin, but I was afraid to try! I started taking violin lessons with David Gillis, a member of the Pittsburgh Symphony, and I’m still studying! I’m working on the Vivaldi sonatas, Opus 2, which I love! It’s a whole other world. 

The most recent development is the establishment of Duquesne’s chant schola under the direction of faculty member Sister Marie Agatha Ozah, HHCJ. We study the St. Gall notation to incorporate those interpretive elements into our singing. In May 2013, I led a study trip to Paris to play the important organs there and gave a short concert at the Benedictine Abbey in Solesmes. 

 

How do you know what to say when a student plays? What not to say? 

Always, I do it by intuition, and I think David Craighead did too. I’m careful not to say too much, and not say too little. 

 

How do you decide not only what to say, but how to say it? How do you break through?

Teaching is so dynamic, because you have to figure out where the student is and how the student will perceive what you say. You always have to be honest, but you need to be helpful—not damaging. You can’t say something is good when it’s not. Some teachers are more didactic, but I find that I do almost everything by intuition.

 

Realizing that you could retire, what keeps you going?

I love what I’m doing. I’m finally at a point when I can do it more easily.

I still have a lot to give to the students. I can still make a difference in their lives, and I still enjoy it. When we look around the country, and see the teachers who have retired, only to see their programs eliminated, that is always a danger. 

 

What are your hopes for the future of Duquesne’s sacred music and organ programs?

We are working very hard to get a world-class organ on campus! We have plans, and hope to be able to do this in the near future. The last piece of the puzzle is to put a doctoral program in place. That has been in discussion for many years, and it has been very challenging because there are many hoops to jump through. Our library holdings have been critical, but we now have many sacred music collections (the Langlais Collection, the Craighead Collection, the Boys Town Collection, the Richard Proulx Collection, to name a few). We have the faculty, and the quality of teaching, but we need more financial support. 

 

What else would you like to say?

Duquesne University has always been a religious institution. Our mission is to train church musicians. There are other schools whose main issue is getting students ready for competitions, which is wonderful, and I admire them very much. But even David Craighead agreed that he wished the Eastman School had done more with church music and preparation for the AGO exams. I want to prepare students to be musicians in churches of all denominations. We are trying to evolve, as the church continues to evolve. Students have to learn both pastoral skills and musical skills. These are difficult to teach. Our internship, for example, is a requirement partially because of NASM accreditation, but it’s also a critical area that we use to help each student in that very way. 

 

Ann, thank you for sharing these details of your life in teaching and performing. Albert Einstein said, “I never teach my pupils. I only attempt to provide the conditions in which they can learn.” My experience of you as a teacher and mentor has been just so. You always gave the students exactly the right amount of guidance, and offered the right words precisely when they were needed; and yet you always allowed each student to discover his own path. You have led the way gracefully, setting a high bar and leading by example. Most importantly you have shown me the importance of constant, ongoing learning. I look forward to many more years of collaboration and friendship and wish you many blessings for continued joy in your work. 

by Herbert L. Huestis

Herbert L. Huestis, Ph.D., is a graduate of the Eastman School of Music, where he studied with David Craighead. He is a pipe organ technician in British Columbia and Washington State, where he specializes in restoring and renovating vintage reed stops.

A common story of many an American organ builder's career is that they apprenticed in America and subsequently traveled to Europe where they experienced the work of the old masters in Groningen, Arlesheim, Upsala, or some small village in Friesland. Having embraced these historic ideals, they returned to America to establish themselves as builders of modern tracker organs.

Martin Pasi's pursuit of the art of organ building is a similar adventure in reverse. He was born the fifth of six children on December 21, 1953 in Bregenz, Austria, on Lake Constance. Martin trained at Rieger Orgelbau in Schwarzach, just six miles from his home, then discovered the fervor and passion of historic organ building in America. Ultimately he fulfilled his dream of becoming an organ builder near Tacoma, Washington, where he builds organs that are very much in the spirit of the old masters.

After completing a business course in high school, Martin worked in a local office long enough to discover that the world of commerce was not for him. His father, Kassian Pasi, had been a wood worker and to Martin, working with his hands made more sense than filling out forms. Rieger Orgelbau was near his home and he applied for an apprenticeship. (See sidebar on European training for organ builders.) His first year at Rieger was spent in the woodworking department building organ cases. At the end of that time, he completed a case on his own. In his second year, he was assigned to the console division, then in general assembly. As an apprentice in that department, Martin began to travel with pipe voicers to do field installations of new organs.

It was his good fortune to assist a voicer who was impressed with his skill and his ear. This led to an assignment in the voicing department for the remainder of his apprenticeship. Work in voicing took him to Australia, Africa, the U.S., and many places in Europe. On one occasion he was sent to voice an organ in Liberia--the organ blower was not installed correctly, and had burned out! To complete the voicing, the organ had to be pumped by hand.

On a trip to Cleveland, Ohio, Martin visited Charles Ruggles' organ shop to borrow some tools. By chance he met Charles' sister Barbara and the rest is an organbuilder's fairy tale. They were married and traveled coast to coast voicing for Rieger. With his fate sealed by marriage, he joined the Karl Wilhelm shop and moved to St. Hilaire, Quebec.

In his new home, Martin discovered vastly different aspects of North American and European organ building. Acoustics (or a lack thereof) were apparent; however, one of the real benefits that Martin discovered in his new homeland was that churches are heated. A winter installation or rebuilding project in a frosty European cathedral can be a real trial and it was a relief to work in comfortable surroundings during the winter! The reader can imagine how quickly pipes heat to the voicer's touch when they are far below room temperature--and how many times they have to be cut before the pitch stabilizes.

Martin's initial curiosity about historic organs began when he met Susan Tattershall, who was working in Rieger's restoration department. In 1986, while working on the west coast, he met David Dahl and Paul Fritts at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, Washington. There, he discovered the energy and commitment to the historic style of organ building that is the hallmark of David Dahl, Paul Fritts, and Ralph Richards. He joined the firm of Fritts & Richards as a pipe maker and participated in the construction of several major pipe organs in Washington, including Gethsemany Lutheran Church in Seattle, the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, and the University of Washington in Seattle.

By 1990, Martin was able to open his own shop with fellow organ builder Halbert Gober, whom he had met some years previously at Karl Wilhelm's shop in Quebec. They were joined by Markus Morscher, a master woodworker that Martin had known in Austria. They had the good fortune to buy a surplus elementary school, complete with classrooms, offices and gymnasium. The school had been closed, so Martin went directly to the school board with a proposal to put an organ shop there. This small school building became an organ shop with all the "extras," including a complete pipe making facility, capable of turning out hammered lead pipes. Eventually, Halbert Gober returned to Canada to open a shop of his own in Toronto, Ontario, where, like Martin, he makes hand crafted organs.

Throughout his organ building career, Martin Pasi has encouraged young organ builders to come to his shop for additional experience in the "journey" phase of their European training. A number of aspiring organ builders have spent a year as a journeyman in Martin's shop before returning to Europe for their "Master's" study.

It is especially notable that Martin looks at pipe making as the most integral and to some extent, mystical element of the organ building process. Since the success of pipe making springs from the pouring of the metal, much care has to be taken from the very beginning. Even the choice of a casting day is somewhat folkloric. Some say the stars have to be in order and certain astrological signs should agree. Martin finds no fault with these considerations.

His drawings show strong respect for the pipes as the foundation of the organ. The facade usually comprises many pipes, including the principal rank which is the heart of the organ. He feels that every aspect of pipe making affects the ultimate beauty of the organ and that personality of the organ is formed from the casting day onwards. He says that he builds organs the only way he knows how--from the pipes outward.

He makes his pipes the same way they were made in the fifteenth century. This process starts with the first sweep of molten metal down the length of the casting bench. He describes the process with a characteristic understatement:

     "Casting to thickness is not that hard, really. You have to have a steady hand as you guide the liquid metal down the canvas. It's a matter of how fast or slow you go."

Martin points out that most organ factories plane pipe metal to thickness. But control of the casting process allows him to pour the metal directly to thickness and hammer it for stiffness and its best tonal qualities. The metal that is destined for the top of each pipe is scraped so that the upper rim of the pipe will be thin for cone tuning. Relatively few organ builders master the art of casting metal to exact thicknesses required for a full range of organ pipes, without resorting to a planer.

Martin's pipes are made of metal that is mostly lead, with a very small percentage of antimony and other metals. This gives the lead a stiffness that it would not have if it were absolutely pure. In his shop, scales and patterns are calibrated in traditional ways, but he is no stranger to the computer. He keeps careful records of historic organ scales that will be applicable to his organs. This is evident in the wide variety of reed stops which he has made. But there is also a strong sense of uniformity in his organs. There is a sound that is present in every one which must surely come from his homeland. It is a pure and deep fundamental tone like the baryton horn that Martin played during his school years near the shores of Lake Constance.

Opus List

Opus 1    Table Regal 8' (Residence, Dr. Craig Cramer)

Opus 2    2 manuals and pedal. 18 stops, Coral Isles Church, Tavernier, Florida. (Completed Summer of 1992)

Opus 3    2 manuals and pedal, 9 stops, Jannine Cansler residence, Portland Oregon. (Completed June of 1993)

Opus 4    2 manuals and pedal, 29 stops, Trinity Lutheran Church, Lynnwood, Washington. (Completed February 1995)

Opus 5    2 manuals and pedal, 24 stops, Lola Wolf residence, Kirkland, Washington. (Completed July of 1996)

Opus 6    1 manual, Sitka, Alaska. (Restoration of Kessler organ from Estonia, 1844)

Opus 7    2 manuals and pedal, 27 stops, First Church of Christ Scientist, La Mesa, California. (Completed February of 1997)

Opus 8    3 stop continuo organ, St. Mark's Cathedral, Seattle, Washington. (Completed 1996)

Opus 9    2 manuals and pedal, 7 stops,  St. Augustine's in the Woods Freeland, Washington. (Completed November of 1997)

Opus 10   2 manuals and pedal, 30 stops, West Vancouver United Church Vancouver, British Columbia. (Completed Spring of 1998)

In Progress

Opus 11   2 manuals and pedal, 32 stops with 32' in pedal for St. Augustine Catholic Church, Spokane, Washington. (Completion in May, 1999)

Opus 12   2 manuals and pedal 12 stops, residence organ for Mr. Richard Kirkland in Pasadena, California. (Completion in Fall of 1999)

Opus 13   2 manuals and pedal, 29 stops, Bedford Presbyterian Church, Bedford, New York. (Completion in Fall of 2000)

Opus 14   3 manuals and pedal, 54 stops (dual temperament), St. Cecilia RC Cathedral, Omaha, Nebraska. (Completion in Fall of 2002)

A Thumbnail Sketch of European Training in Organ Building

Briefly, here are the steps involved in a European training program in Organ Building:

Sign up a 4 year "apprentice" contract with a major organ building firm.

Enroll in the "Instrumentenmacherschule" in Ludwigsburg, Germany (or its equivalent). Attend a three month period of instruction each year.

Pass exam for "journeyman papers" (Gesellenbrief) for organ building.

Spend 3 "traveling" years as journeyman organ builder. The organ builder is on his own, participating in recognized organ builder's shops.

Attend Instrumentenmacherschule for one additional year. The applicant is expected to build an organ entirely on his own and complete course work that includes "business theory."

by James B. Hartman

Grant Smalley Pipe Organs, Victoria, British Columbia (1984)

Born in Sidney, near Victoria B.C., Grant Smalley has worked as an organbuilder since 1966. He was associated with Gabriel Kney from 1968 to 1979, primarily building tracker-action organs and installing them throughout Canada and the U.S.A. During the last eight of those years he assumed Kney's tuning and maintenance business in addition to his organbuilding duties. He returned to Victoria in 1980 and established his own business four years later, buying out the organ maintenance service of Hugo Spilker, who had done restorations in the area. His associate, Douglas Adams, received formal training in instrumentation and systems technology, and manufacturing engineering technology; in addition to assisting in the construction of the new shop, he is responsible for electrical design, construction, and mechanical work. Beverly Smalley, the wife of Grant Smalley, handles the business and financial operations. All three are active participants in community choral groups.

Grant Smalley has built several small organs: a four-stop positiv organ, mechanical action (1985); a four-stop, portable, continuo organ with 56-note transposing keyboard, mechanical action (1989); and two continuo organs of 31/2 and 41/2 ranks, both with mechanical action (1995, 1997). The major activity, however, is organ restoration, along with regular tuning and routine maintenance work: about 50 organs throughout Vancouver Island and Greater Vancouver. A number of heritage organs in Victoria, including several instruments built by Casavant Frères in the early 1900s, and others by English and American makers, have received extensive overhauls in recent years.

Wooden pipes, most windchests, consoles, and casework are built in the shop; metal pipes are ordered to specifications and voiced there. Other components acquired from suppliers include keyboards, drawknobs, switching systems, and blowers.

Blair Batty & Associates, Simcoe, Ontario (1985)

Blair Batty was born in Simcoe, and as a teenage organ player he acquired an interest in the mechanical workings of organs. His organbuilding career began with the Keates Organ Company, Acton, Ontario, where he learned windchest construction, wiring, tuning, and installation procedures. In 1976 he moved to Europe, where he learned the craft of metal pipemaking with Jacques Stin-

kens, Zeist, Holland, and the art of reed manufacturing with Carl Giesecke & Sohn, Göttingen, West Germany. During that period he travelled extensively throughout Europe to study examples of French, German, and Dutch organbuilding. In 1977 he went to Gloucester, Massachusetts, to join C. B. Fisk as a pipemaker and draftsman, then in 1979 he was invited to head the pipe shop of the Noack Organ Company, Georgetown, Massachusetts. In 1981 he returned to Canada to work for Brunzema Organs, Fergus, Ontario, then returned to Simcoe in 1985 to establish his own firm. Since then he has visited England on several occasions to study the instruments of Willis and Hill.

The company has built three new organs. One is a two-manual, 27-stop instrument of eclectic design incorporating Schnitger-inspired choruses, a French-character trumpet, and Dutch/French-style Swell mutations, with console-equipped MIDI (1991). Another is a two-manual, 19-stop instrument of British-inspired design in which the basic choruses follow William Hill, but includes a Schnitger-style trumpet, a cornet and mutations of classical French design, and string stops scaled and voiced on Cavaillé-Coll principles (1993). A four-rank box organ was built for a private customer.

The company specializes in restoring and rebuilding older organs, employing the techniques and materials of the original builder as far as possible, and provides tuning and maintenance service to about 100 churches annually throughout southwestern Ontario. Most of the components of organs are produced in the factory: Pitman and slider windchests, bellows, rollerboards, tremulants, keyboards and pedalboards, and consoles. Pipes, both wooden and metal (including reeds), are generally made on the premises; the metal pipeshop and foundry section has a 12-foot, polished granite casting table, one of the few in Canada. Blowers and electrical combination and switching actions are acquired from external suppliers. The firm also provides services, parts, and pipes to other builders and tuners. A large reference library of historical and current organ design data, including pipe scalings of hundreds of historic organs, is maintained. A computer-assisted design (CAD) system is used. The firm had three full-time employees and several part-time helpers in 1998.

Gober Organs, Toronto, Ontario (1985)

Halbert Gober was born in Austin, Texas, and began his organbuilding career with Otto Hofmann (1969-1972), an organbuilder in Austin known as an early proponent of the tracker revival. Following university studies in liberal arts and architecture, he lived in Germany from 1972 to 1980. During the first four years he studied music, architecture, and organbuilding; in the remaining years he was employed with various organbuilders, including Rensch in Lauffen-am-Neckar (1972); Jann (1977-1980), where he completed his formal apprenticeship in 1979; and Felsberg in Chur, Switzerland. Following his move to Canada in 1981 he was employed as a voicer with Karl Wilhelm until 1985, before opening his own shop in the Montréal area in that year. From there he served as a freelance voicer and pipemaker for several organbuilders in North America and Europe.

He established his own shop in Toronto in 1991, where he commenced building tracker-action organs. Output to date amounts to six two-manual instruments of medium or small size; the most recent of these is a five-stop studio organ for the University of Notre Dame, South Bend, Indiana. Rebuilds and tonal revision projects are also undertaken. His philosophy is to draw on the full heritage of historical organbuilding in the construction of cohesive and logical instruments, with equal priority to dependability and musicality.

Wooden pipes, along with metal pipes made of cast and hammered lead, are manufactured on the premises. Reed pipes, including shallots, are also made in the shop. Action parts are from Germany. There were three employees in 1998. 

Pole & Kingham, Chatham, Ontario (1985)

 Donald Pole and Ron Kingham founded their company in 1979 and then incorporated in 1985, when the construction of complete new organs commenced. Earlier, between 1966 and 1968, Ron Kingham had been an employee of John Bright, a co-founder with Gabriel Kney of the Kney & Bright Organ Company in 1955; he built a house organ under John Bright's supervision. In the first five years of their association, the partners' work was limited to tuning, repairs, cleaning, and general maintenance.

Since 1985 they have built and installed seven new electrical-action instruments (two incorporating some older parts), mostly of medium-size, all in Ontario churches; two other instruments were provided to churches in Michigan, U.S.A. While their instruments are designed to meet both liturgical and performance needs, recent organs have a Romantic bias, and the Symphonic era is recalled in a new, three-manual, 36-stop instrument (the largest to date), with its six-rank String Organ division, installed in Holy Trinity Anglican Church, in Chatham, Ontario, in 1997. Other services include restoration of both tracker- and pneumatic-action organs, rebuilding with solid-state switching, enlargement, and tonal additions, along with general maintenance and tuning.

Wooden pipes (Bourdon, Chimney Flute, Gedeckt, and Doppelflute--the latter scaled after a fine Karn stop), windchests and reservoirs, and consoles are made in the shop; metal pipes are obtained from suppliers in Canada, U.S.A., Germany, and Holland. Five employees worked with the partners in 1998.

Juget-Sinclair, Montréal, Québec (1994)

Denis Juget, a native of the Savoy region of France, received his diploma in fine cabinetmaking in Annency, Haute-Savoy, France, in 1979, then worked as an apprentice with leading organbuilders on both sides of the Atlantic, with whom he acquired skills in all phases of organbuilding: Lucien Simon, Lyon, France (1979-1983); Robert Chauvin, Dax, France (1983-

1985); Wolff & Associés, Laval, Québec, upon his arrival in Canada (1985-1991); Orgelbau Goll, Lucerne, Switzerland (1990-1991); Orgelbau Rohlf, Seitzental, Germany (1992-1994); and Karl Wilhelm, Mont Saint-Hilaire, Québec (1992-1994). Special assignments be-tween 1988 and 1990 involved the restoration, renovation, and voicing of several organs in Austria, Italy, and Spain. His organbuilding enterprise began in 1994 in Saint-Basile-le-Grand, Québec, in a backyard, two-story, former chicken coop, which was converted into a workshop. In the following year he completed a two-manual, 3-stop house organ for a private client.

Following studies in science at McGill University in Montréal, Stephen Sinclair worked first as an apprentice cabinetmaker, then as an apprentice organbuilder with Wolff & Associés (1989-1991). He received practical working experience in general organbuilding and reed-stop restoration with Manufacture d'orgues Franc-comptoise, Courtefontaine, France (1995, 1997); pipemaking with Georges Blaison, France (1996) and N. P. Mander, London, England (1997); and general organbuilding, design, voicing, maintenance, and tuning with Wolff & Associés (1992-1998). He joined Denis Juget as an equal associate in 1998.

The company divides its time between the restoration of historic instruments and the construction of small mechanical-action organs. Since 1995 five two-manual, 3-stop, house organs and one continuo organ have been manufactured; three of the house organs for clients in the United States. Works in progress include two similar house organs for destinations in Québec and Germany, and a two-manual, 10-stop practice organ for the University of Cincinnati, ready in 1999. The house organs incorporate a design by Denis Juget that enables them to be moved relatively easily without breaking down the action.

All parts are made in-house, including wooden and metal pipes, wind chests, bellows, rollerboards, keyboards and pedalboards, drawknobs, and casework (hand-planed in solid wood, using mortise-and-tenon construction). Blowers are purchased from Laukhuff, Germany. Several part-time workers assist in various stages of production and installation. Following relocation in late 1998 to an industrial space with 30-foot cathedral ceilings in Montréal, the associates intend to make the leap from building practice instruments to full-fledged church organs in the near future.

D. Leslie Smith, Fergus, Ontario (1996)

Leslie Smith grew up in southern Alberta, and acquired his interest in music at an early age through involvement in church choirs and piano lessons. He developed an early fascination with organ building and enrolled in organ performance studies at the University of Calgary after completing high school. Using practical skills acquired from his father, who was a carpenter and mechanic, he completed several kits for harpsichords and clavichords, and established an association with a local organ serviceman who introduced him to the techniques of maintaining and tuning electro-pneumatic instruments. In 1973 he moved to London, Ontario, to continue his organ studies at the University of Western Ontario. While in that city, he became acquainted with Gabriel Kney, in whose organbuilding shop he worked on a part-time basis for several years. In 1982 he joined Brunzema Organs in Fergus, Ontario, where he remained for 10 years as a journeyman organbuilder. After the death of Gerhard Brunzema in 1992 and the closing of his organbuilding operation, Leslie Smith worked as an independent contractor in pipemaking and voicing on a number of projects in Canada and the United States. His first organ, a two-manual, 11-stop studio organ was undertaken in 1982 as a part-time project while working with Gerhard Brunzema; it was completed in 1992.

In 1996 he established his new workshop on part of the former Brunzema premises. In the same year he produced his first commission, a one-manual, 6-stop, mechanical-action organ, for a cemetery chapel in Montréal. A similar organ, but without pedals, was supplied to a church in Kansas City, Missouri. Although eclectic and innovative in terms of tonal and visual design, Leslie Smith's approach is inspired by the work of mid-19th-century Canadian and American firms such as S. R. Warren of Montréal and Hook & Hastings of Boston, favoring generous scaling and higher pressures.

Wooden pipes for these two instruments were made in-house, but metal pipes were supplied by F. J. Rogers, Leeds, England. Blowers came from Laukhuff, Germany. Keyboards, and key and stop action were fabricated in the shop. Stops are divided into bass and treble, using a special form of drawstop mechanism developed by the builder. Cases are made from common hardwoods, using traditional construction techniques.

Maintenance work to organs of all makes and construction in Ontario and Québec comprises a significant part of his activity; in 1996 he was appointed curator of the largest pipe organ in Montréal, a four-manual, 86-stop Casavant instrument (installed in 1932, rebuilt in 1992 by another firm) at the Church of St. Andrew and St. Paul, and will soon undertake complete rebuilding projects, as well.

The Future of Organbuilding

The status of organbuilding in the 21st century is not easy to predict, given the variety of factors involved. Generalizations about the number of future organ installations are risky; nevertheless, it is interesting to note that, within roughly the last three decades, while the annual production of instruments of all sizes peaked several times in the 1980s, the low periods of the 1970s were again matched in the years since 1994. Whether this recession will continue in the coming years is uncertain, but some recent trends provide clues to a possible future.13

The fact that few new organs have been installed in Canadian locations in recent years is not surprising, for the distinguishing characteristics of the "golden age" of the organ in the early years of the twentieth century--in terms of the erection of new church buildings, the proliferation of organbuilding firms that supplied both churches and motion picture theaters with instruments, and public enthusiasm for organ recitals played by local and touring recitalists--are not likely to be repeated, considering shifting cultural values along with the various musical and other forms of entertainment now available.

Although most organbuilders have confined their operations to meeting only local and regional needs, several Canadian firms have cultivated the international market with apparent success. The services of the Canadian Commercial Corporation, a crown corporation of the Government of Canada that assumes the role of prime contractor and subcontracts all of the contract back to the Canadian firm, are available for companies seeking worldwide clients.

As for the tonal design of new instruments, the uneasy hybrid designs of earlier years largely have been abandoned in preference to the rediscovered qualities of universally admired older instruments of the 17th and 18th centuries, without blindly copying them. Although instruments of neoclassical design, with their historically "authentic" stoplists, are not entirely suitable for the performance of all schools of organ music, they are probably more versatile than the earlier generation of organs for general liturgical and performance purposes. On the other hand, some organbuilders prefer an eclectic approach, a matter that is subject to ongoing debate.14 The recent strong demand for mechanical-action instruments may eventually stabilize, for reasons relating to architecture, economics, changing musical tastes, and a return to the Romantic idiom in repertoire. Purchasers may prefer some of the advantages of nonmechanical instruments, such as the consistent keyboard touch and flexible console location provided by electric action.15

Much of the earlier activity of new organ construction has been redirected to rebuilding and restoring older instruments, some of historical significance. Most Canadian organbuilders engage in this growing activity, which can provide churches with a cost-effective alternative to the purchase of a comparable new instrument. Routine maintenance work is also part of the service provided by many firms, large and small.

Pipe organs have always been expensive, so electronic instruments utilizing highly developed digital technology now provide an economic alternative for church congregations lacking the will or the means to acquire and maintain a pipe organ. The respective merits of pipe organs and electronic instruments have been debated since the latter were first introduced. Nevertheless, there is an obvious answer, based on musical criteria, to the question, Which is preferable: a poorly designed, badly maintained pipe organ, or a high quality electronic instrument? Electronic instruments have a place in locations where pipe organs are out of the question, whether for space or budgetary considerations. They have proved adequate for the liturgical requirements of many small or medium-size churches with limited budgets, and these instruments have provided competition for more costly pipe organs. The increasing acceptance of electronic instruments further diminishes the probability of a significant number of new pipe organ installations in the coming years. On the other hand, educational institutions (those that are not financially beleaguered, if any) and affluent congregations of some churches (not necessarily the largest) undoubtedly will continue to prefer pipe organs for musical, historical, or social reasons, and such instruments can be supplied only by the larger, well-established, organbuilding companies.

The role of the organist is of considerable importance in ensuring a future for organbuilding. If a church considering the purchase of a new organ already has a fully trained organist, this person, working with a musically educated and supportive committee, can influence the decision in favor of a pipe organ in preference to an electronic instrument, providing that a realistic fund-raising objective can be achieved. A church with an adequate pipe organ will seek a highly trained individual to play it, and such organists ordinarily prefer appointments to churches with pipe organs; once hired, their presence encourages the continuation of the pipe organ tradition.

Changes in the liturgical practices of some religious denominations may have a subtle, long-term effect on the future of organbuilding. The emergence in some congregations of youth-segregated services, with their unique liturgical practices that employ guitars or other instruments associated with folk music or religious rock groups, may produce a generation of worshippers unfamiliar with the organ, its musical heritage, and its literature. A broader associated issue is the question of the future of institutionalized religion and its possible decline due to the growth of science, education, and secularization, or its theological transformation into various manifestations of individualistic spiritual development. These possibilities undoubtedly will take many years, perhaps centuries, to resolve.      

Shifts in population characteristics introduce another factor into the question of the future of organbuilding. Some suburban churches located in stable neighborhoods now have congregations comprised largely of aging members living on limited incomes, not offset by significant numbers of younger, fully employed members. If the present job of organ maintenance is difficult for such congregations, even with skilled volunteer labor working under the supervision of a trained organ technician, the acquisition of a new instrument is beyond consideration; in fact, the amalgamation or dispersal of these congregations is the more likely scenario. The inevitable result would be the closing of some church buildings, along with the possible removal or relocation of existing pipe organs. The more affluent churches with a wider spread of ages among their members, and which encourage the full participation of younger members in their musical programs, are the only ones that will escape this fate, thus leaving open the possibility of the purchase of a new organ in the distant future. A related consideration, which provides a cause for optimism, is grounded in the speculation that recent declines in per capita real income may stimulate group activities at the expense of individual life styles, and that churches may again become a center of social as well as spiritual activities. In such contexts the pipe organ, as a cultural, religious, and artistic centerpiece, may serve as a source of pride and inspiration, and as a vehicle for the renewal of congregations.16

Over the longer term, increased public awareness, combined with both formal and informal educational opportunities, may contribute to the sustained vitality of the organ culture generally, including organbuilding. Radio broadcasts of organ recordings, instructive television programs, increased concert programming for organ and other instruments, and the development of audiences for subscription series of organ recitals, would increase knowledge of the organ among the general public. In the educational system, in-service sessions on the organ for school music teachers, the preparation of classroom learning materials for use in regular music instruction courses, and the participation of students in on-site inspection trips and demonstrations would provide practical contexts for raising awareness of the organ at a level that students can understand and enjoy.17 As for organists, competitions or commissions for hymn arrangements, sacred songs, or new compositions for the organ could be fostered on both the regional and national levels by the Royal Canadian College of Organists. These informational and educational programs would contribute to the development and maintenance of an appreciative audience for the organ throughout the coming decades. Such forms of revitalization would ensure the future of the King of Instruments well into the 21st century.

REFERENCES

                        13.              Some of the following material is adapted from the chapter, "The Future of the Organ," in Hartman, The Organ in Manitoba (note 5 above).

                        14.              See Quentin Regestein and Lois Regestein, "The 'Right' Organ," The Diapason, August 1998, 13-16; September 1998, 17-18. Radically opposing points of view debate the legitimacy of a "universal" hybrid organ, one that is perfect for everything.

                        15.              R. E. Colberd, "Pipe Organ Building: the Nineties and Beyond," The Diapason, July 1994, 12.

                        16.              Ibid., 14.

                        17.              For a description of a recent educational event for school children, see Valerie L. Hall, "Meet the King of Instruments: A Successful Workshop Model for Kids," Organ Canada, July 1998, 9.

Steven Egler

*Moniker assigned to Fred Swann in the printed program for the AGO 2008 Distinguished Performer Award.

 

Frederick Swann is one of the most well-known organists of the 20th and early 21st centuries. In this conversation, which is really a mini-biography, he reveals much behind-the-scenes information about his numerous high-profile positions, his relationship with the Murtagh/McFarlane Artist Management, and his early musical experiences, along with observations about the organ and church music today. He is an extremely humble man who has met his many challenges and professional opportunities with modesty and dignity. 

Swann’s honors and achievements in recent years include: 2002, International Performer of the Year by the New York City Chapter of the American Guild of Organists; 2004, inaugural recital on the organ in the Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles; 2008, AGO Endowment Fund Distinguished Performer Award; 2009, Paul Creston Award by St. Malachy’s Chapel, New York City. In November 2014, he will be honored by the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival.

He has performed inaugural recitals on symphony-hall organs at Orchestra Hall (Chicago), Davies Hall (San Francisco), and Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall (Costa Mesa).

Frederick Swann is currently the consultant for the Ruffatti organ restoration project at the renamed Christ Cathedral, formerly the Crystal Cathedral, where he was director of music and organist (1982–1998). Christ Cathedral is scheduled to reopen in 2016. (See The Diapason, June 2014, pp. 26–28.)

This interview was conducted on May 8, 2014, in Saginaw, Michigan, as Swann was preparing for his May 9 inaugural recital on Scott Smith and Company Opus 3, a project renovating Skinner Organ Company Opus 751. Thanks go to Kenneth Wuepper of Saginaw, Michigan, the recording technician for the interview; the First Congregational Church, Saginaw, Michigan; and to Fred Swann himself for allowing us to interview him, for his assistance with editing, and for providing the photos that accompany this piece.

 

Steven Egler: Please tell us about your early years and your family. 

Frederick Swann: I am the son of a minister, and there were six children—three boys and three girls. I was number five, and there was a big space between me and the four older ones. 

From the very beginning, I was fascinated by the piano, and I would frequently bang on it at age 3 or 4. My parents were not particularly happy about that, so they locked the piano. Of course, any three-year-old can figure out how to get into a piano if he really wants to, and I did! 

When I was five, they decided that I could have piano lessons from May Carper, the organist of a church near my father’s church in Winchester, Virginia. One day I arrived early for a lesson and couldn’t find her. But I heard the organ going, and finally I found her at the organ console. I was hypnotized watching things popping in and out, lights were flashing, her hands and feet were flying, and I thought, “Oh my! That looks like fun. I’ve got to do that!” 

I asked her if I could play, but my legs were so short they wouldn’t reach the pedals. I kept after her, so she bribed me: if I had a good piano lesson, she would let me “bang” on the organ for five minutes before I went home. Then when my legs got longer—when I was about eight—she started showing me things about the organ and that you had to play it differently—not like a piano. They were really not organ lessons, because I just was continuing on the piano, but she still told me a lot about the organ. It was very good that she did because the organist in my father’s church, Braddock Street Methodist Church, suddenly died, and I became the organist of the church—there was no one else to play. It must have been simply awful, but that’s how I got started at age ten, and I’ve just kept on. I was a lucky kid since I didn’t have to decide what I was going to do when I grew up: I just started playing and kept doing it. 

 

Can you recall what those early church services were like and being thrust onto the bench?

Mostly I just played the hymns. The choir director, Madeline Riley, was somewhat of an organist herself, but the console was not located where she could play and direct. I would play the hymns, and she would show me how to play simple accompaniments.

I would practice during the week, and then my Saturday routine was that I always went to the horse opera theater—cowboy Western—for ten cents. On my way home, I’d go by the church and make sure that I had everything ready for the next morning.

I don’t remember too much about the services, except that it was an old Möller organ and setting the pistons made a lot of noise. I would love to “play with” setting the pistons, and the choir director would always come around to slap my hands because they could hear the noise out in the church. 

My biggest excitement came one Easter morning. There were certain stops that I was not allowed to use, and one was a great big Open Diapason in the Great. The church, however, was full and they were really singing, so she came by and pulled out the Open Diapason. I was just thrilled to death! I thought, “This is heaven,” since I had not been allowed to make that much noise before. 

That went on for a couple years, and then we moved down valley to Staunton in 1943. There I started studying with the organist of Trinity Episcopal Church, Dr. Carl Broman, singing in the choir, and getting a lot of very good musical education at the same time. He was a very fine musician.

 

You mentioned moving as a PK (preacher’s kid). Was that frequent as a child?

Not so much. I left home to go to school when I wasn’t quite 16, and we had only lived in three places. I was born in Lewisburg, West Virginia, but only lived there six weeks. We then moved to Clifton Forge, Virginia, where my father, Theodore M. Swann, pastored the Methodist church. Six years later, we moved to Winchester and the Braddock Street Methodist Church for six years (1937–1943). Then we moved down the Shenandoah Valley to Staunton, where my father became a district superintendent and later a bishop. We didn’t have a home church as such because he was always traveling to other churches. This is the main reason I was allowed to attend Trinity Episcopal Church in Staunton where I was confirmed at age 13. I just loved it—the liturgy and the great music.

 

What attracted you to Northwestern University?

To tell you the truth, my childhood was not the happiest, and at that point in my life, the farthest place away that I had heard of was Chicago. With my Methodist background and it being a Methodist school, I won a scholarship and went there.

 

You studied with Thomas Matthews (1915–1999) who is known particularly for his choral anthems. How was he as a teacher? 

He was a fine teacher, and a very quiet but very fun man. He was inspiring as a teacher and was willing to let me try anything. He gave me very good ideas.

Most of my lessons were at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Evanston, on the fantastic E.M. Skinner organ. By my senior year, I’d started to do a lot of accompanying. Matthews was also the director of the Chicago Bach Choir that, for some reason, met in Evanston at St. Luke’s Church.

In 1952, we did the second United States performance of the Duruflé Requiem. The first had been performed slightly earlier at Calvary Church in New York City. At last count, I’ve played that marvelous work 91 times during my career. I played it many years later at Riverside Church with Duruflé himself conducting. 

Tom [Matthews] was a great improviser, so I learned a lot about improvisation and colorful use of the organ, both in organ literature and in adapting piano/orchestral scores to the organ.

I also studied with John Christensen, who was the organist at the First Methodist Church in Evanston, and was his assistant organist during my four years in college. During my senior year, I also became organist and choir director at First Baptist Church upon the retirement of William Harrison Barnes (1892–1980). Dr. Barnes was the author of The Contemporary American Organ (1930) and well known as an organ consultant.

 

You said that the Barnes family “adopted” you?

When I arrived on the scene at Northwestern University, they heard me play and thought that I was advanced for my age. They also had recently lost a son, and for some reason, I reminded them of him and they decided to take me into the family. They were also responsible for my introduction to Virgil Fox (1912–1980) and took me on my first trip to New York City. On Sunday, they took me to the choir loft of St. Patrick’s Cathedral to meet the organist, their close friend Charles Courboin (1884–1973). During the sermon at the Mass, Dr. Courboin said to me, “Why don’t you play the postlude?” Of course, I had never played in a room like that or on an organ of that size, but I knew the Langlais Te Deum from memory, so I managed to get through it with the crescendo pedal and a general piston or two. Later, I became very good friends with Dr. Courboin, and, in fact, I studied the complete organ works of Franck with him. This was a great privilege, for he was widely regarded as an expert on the works of Franck. He was a very fun-loving and wonderful man. He and his wife were both so good to me, and he never charged me a penny for all of those lessons!

 

You attended Union Theological Seminary. With whom did you study?

My primary teacher was Hugh Porter (1897–1960), who was the director of the School of Sacred Music at the seminary. The best thing, however, particularly at that time, was just being in New York. Those days were often referred to as the “glory days” because of the great names in church music who were at the other churches in town. On Sunday afternoons, you could hear Evensong at St. Thomas or St. Bartholomew’s. Plus, there were many choral programs and other concerts all of the time, so you learned as much being exposed to music itself in New York as you did with actual classroom or lesson study. 

 

What advice do you have for young people these days who see themselves being organists as their primary calling, attend university, and expect to be prepared for the big, wide world?

I usually remind my students that they really have to love playing the organ and really have to love what they are doing. 

As far as becoming a concert organist, one has to realize that the field is very full. There are dozens and dozens of organists under management, many of whom play very few recitals because there are so many organists available. 

If you think that you want to be a church organist, if this is something you feel you just have to do, go ahead and do it. But realize that there are not that many full-time church jobs where you are going to be able to make a living. So, learn the organ, play it as well as you can, find a church to play in, but be aware that you may also need other sources of income, maybe teaching or perhaps even something in the business world.

One of my current university students at Redlands is also studying to become a dentist, and he is one of the most talented students I’ve ever had. I believe that he could have a career in the concert field and in church work, but he’s preparing to have some other source of income. 

It’s not that there aren’t jobs available: they’re just not jobs at which you can make a living.

 

I’d like to discuss the sizes of the various organs you have played. One source cites First Congregational Church, Christ Cathedral (formerly Crystal Cathedral), and Riverside Church respectively as the third, fifth, and fifteenth largest organs in the world. You have presided over each one of these instruments. 

Theoretically, the First Congregational Church in Los Angeles, where I was for three years after I retired from the Crystal Cathedral, contains the world’s largest church organ. There’s very little difference in the size of First Congregational and the organ at the Cathedral of St. Stephen in Passau, Germany, but interestingly, in a book that I picked up the last time I played there, it lists the largest organs in the world; they even put First Congregational’s organ before theirs! 

Actually, the Wanamaker organ (now Macy’s) in Philadelphia is the world’s largest operating organ. (The Atlantic City, New Jersey, Boardwalk Hall—formerly the Atlantic City Convention Center—organ is bigger, but most of it doesn’t play at this point.) 

Many people are obsessed with size, yet size is not everything. I have played many small and modest-sized instruments that were extremely beautiful and satisfying.

 

Please tell us about New York and the various pre-Riverside positions that you held. 

When I was in school at Union, I had a fieldwork position, the West Center Church in Bronxville, New York, but at that time I had already agreed to substitute for Virgil Fox whenever he was away, which was quite a bit.

My job in Bronxville was with the understanding that I had to be at Riverside when necessary. I was the official substitute organist (at Riverside) for a couple of years. When I graduated, Clarence Dickinson (1873–1969), whom I knew very well, had a heart attack—he was the organist and choirmaster at the Brick Church—and they asked me if I would fill in for him for nearly two years. At the same time, I became Harold Friedell’s (1905–1958) assistant at St. Bartholomew’s Church. I’d play in the morning at the Brick Church at 92nd Street and run down Park Avenue to play 4 o’clock Evensong at St. Bartholomew’s. There was a church in between called Park Avenue Christian Church, and they performed their oratorios at 2 o’clock on Sunday afternoon. Sometimes I would stop there and accompany an oratorio between playing services at Brick Church and St. Bart’s. 

Some Sundays, I also played Riverside! I would finish at St. Bart’s, jump off the bench (Harold [Friedell] would finish the service), run downstairs and out the door where there was a car waiting to whisk me to Riverside. Somebody else would have played the opening hymn, and I’d jump on the bench and play the oratorio. It was crazy and I don’t how I did it, except that when you’re young, you do all kinds of foolish things and don’t think anything about it.

 

Of course, I assume that you knew the organs and had rehearsed with the choirs.

Yes, plus the enormous amount of preparation for all the other music involved. 

 

And those were with just organ accompaniments and no orchestra?

Yes. Fortunately, the organs were all big, beautiful instruments with every color in the world, and it was a wonderful experience. After a while, I played almost every oratorio in the standard repertory. At Riverside we even did the United States premieres of a couple of works—Stabat Mater (1925–1926) of Szymanowsky (1882–1937) and the Hodie (1954) of Vaughan Williams (1872–1958). It was a wonderful experience, both to learn the music and also to learn how to adapt the scores quickly to the organ.

 

Were you ever overwhelmed playing those large instruments?

No, but there were many challenges and satisfaction in being able to find solutions. 

I can remember Maurice and Marie-Madeleine Chevalier-Duruflé, who were very good friends, when they played their first recital in America at the Riverside Church. They had come for the 1964 AGO national convention in Philadelphia the week before, but Maurice had hurt his back and couldn’t perform, so Marie-Madeleine played the recital. 

I’m telling you this because I’m thinking about big organs and how they affect people. When the Duruflés entered the Riverside chancel and saw the console, Maurice put his hand on his head and said, “Oh, mon Dieu!” Marie-Madeleine said, “Ooooooo,” rubbing her hands. She just couldn’t wait to get at it. I don’t think that I ever said “Ooooo” and rubbed my hands, but I was always so thrilled by the color possibilities of an organ such as the Riverside organ.

When I first played at Riverside in 1952, the organ was not the Aeolian-Skinner. It was the original 1931 Hook & Hastings controlled by the Aeolian-Skinner console that had been recently installed. When they began putting in the new organ in 1953, they had to keep the organ going every Sunday for services, oratorios, and everything else. I can remember one time when there were two Greats—the old Great was on one side of the chancel, and the new Great was on the other. I had to flip a switch depending on which Great I was using. It was a real headache and I didn’t get that much time at the organ, but here again when you’re young, you think, “Oh well. I’ll work it out.” It was a challenge.

 

You mention color and large instruments. I’ve heard you play many times, both in person and on recordings, and I can say that you are an organ symphonist in how you approach your music-making. Obviously, all of these instruments that you have experienced have been an incredible influence upon you.

Absolutely. On any instrument, I explore every stop in the organ, and of course, with a large organ, it is important to find orchestral colors for the oratorio accompaniments. I always feel that if there’s a stop there, it’s supposed be used and you can usually find a way to do it. 

 

Please tell us about your time at Riverside Church in New York City. 

In the fall of 1952, I started substituting for Virgil Fox, and in 1957 the staff at the church changed quite a bit. Virgil’s career began to blossom, and thus, he was there very rarely, so they decided they would hire an organist. I was hired as organist, not as assistant organist, at the church. From then until his association with the church dissolved completely in 1965, he very rarely played—probably a handful of times a year, but his name was kept because he was famous. 

I was actually in the Army when I was appointed organist. I was not going to be released for another six months, so Richard Peek, who was studying in New York at the time, filled in for me as organist for the next several months. Then in January 1958, I started playing full-time.

 

Did you ever work directly with Virgil Fox? 

Maybe a few times, but very rarely. He was a real character in addition, of course, to being an incredible musician and technician. Amazing! 

 

So William H. Barnes introduced you to Virgil Fox. Was he responsible for getting you in the door at Riverside? 

Absolutely. Virgil was born in Illinois and got his career start in Illinois—that’s where he met the Barneses. As a result, I knew Virgil before that first trip to New York. 

 

Please tell us about the choir program at Riverside, which was well known and directed by Richard Weagley (1909–1989). 

He was a great musician and wonderful to work with. He retired in 1967, when the program had been reduced from an oratorio every Sunday to just eight or nine a season. There was less work, so they asked me if I would be director of music and organist, which meant that I was the primary organist but was responsible mainly for the choir. Then I was given an assistant organist, and I had some great ones: Marilyn Keiser, John Walker, and Robert MacDonald, to name a few. They were wonderful people, and we’ve remained lifelong friends. I had the whole show, basically, until I left January 1, 1983, to move to California.

 

One of the first recordings I heard of you was with the marvelous soprano Louise Natale (1918–1992). 

Louise was a fabulous soprano. She had sung with Robert Shaw and was one of his main soloists for many years, and we were so fortunate to have her at Riverside. I encouraged her to sing [Jaromir] Weinberger’s (1896–1967) cantata, The Way to Emmaus (1940), and she did it magnificently with that organ to accompany her. 

We started doing it on Easter afternoon, and we did it for 25 consecutive Easters! After all of the loud music and the “Alleluias” all morning and then to come at 5 o’clock with the sun streaming across the Hudson through the beautiful windows and to end the Easter Day quietly was a very moving experience for a lot of people, and eventually the church was filled. 

 

Did you position the console so that you were able to conduct the choir from the console? 

The console was not movable and worked just fine as far as services were concerned, but for the oratorios I would have to go out front and conduct while one of my assistants played. I think the only time I played and had somebody else conduct was when we performed Elgar’s The Dream of Gerontius. The accompaniment was so complicated and so wonderful that I wanted to hear it using all of that organ. So we engaged as conductor Dr. Harvey Smith from Arizona (now deceased). Of course, I had trained the choir before he arrived.

 

Could you explain why there was overlapping time before you left Riverside and when you began your position at the Crystal Cathedral? 

When the Crystal Cathedral had just been built and the organ installed, there were many festivities to open the organ. Pierre Cochereau came to play with orchestra, and a week later I played the first solo recital on the organ. Additionally, they asked me, as long I was there, to play the Sunday morning service. I played the morning service, and afterwards, Dr. and Mrs. Schuller wanted to meet with me. They asked me if I would become the organist of the church. I told them that they had a very fine organist, Richard Unfried, who was a friend of mine, and that the job did not exist. I said that I knew they were without a director of music and asked them if they’d like to discuss that. They said, “No,” that they only wanted me to play the organ. I indicated that I was not interested, since they already had a fine organist. 

So I went home to New York, and four days later, there at my office door at Riverside Church stood Robert Schuller. He said, “I just want you to know that Arvella and I have come light years since our discussion last Sunday, and we’d like to offer you the position of director of music and organist. Would you please fly out to meet with us next Monday to make arrangements.” He then turned around and left! 

I flew out to California with no intention whatsoever of moving, but I had already fallen under the magic spell of that fantastic cathedral and the organ, and as is sometimes said, “They made me an offer that I couldn’t refuse.” 

The arrangement that we finally made was that I would spend one week a month in California—working with the choir, etc.—and the other three weeks a month in New York. That’s what I did the first six months and then moved full-time to California in January 1983. 

I played the last service at Riverside at midnight, December 31, 1982, and then January 2, 1983, I flew to Toronto to play a recital in Roy Thomson Hall, and then flew immediately to California to meet the moving van, set up housekeeping, and get started with the new position. 

People would always ask me if I missed New York, and I’d tell them that I didn’t have time to miss New York! The music program was very large (at the Crystal Cathedral) with several hundred people in the program. I had to learn the organ and get the choir going, so I didn’t have time to think—to miss New York.

 

What was it like working with Robert Schuller (b. 1926)? 

It was wonderful. What you see on television with him is what you get. Both he and Mrs. Schuller, Arvella de Haan (1929–2014), treated me beautifully all the years that I was there, and we became very good friends. 

Dr. Schuller wasn’t around that much since he was always out speaking and raising money. Mrs. Schuller was in charge of worship and the music.

It took us a while to learn which buttons to push with each other, but we eventually became very good friends. She was an organist herself and told me I could do Palestrina and Hubert Parry’s I was glad anytime that I wanted, but I would have to do “the other things that we do,” too. But they wanted me specifically to bring that type of music—the “big Eastern church music.” They wanted me to provide music they felt would be commensurate with the new cathedral building, a great organ, and a fine choir. Thus, I was able to stretch them in doing a lot of that music, but they also stretched me into various other forms of music. 

There was an enormous variety of music. We could have a country-Western singer, a Metropolitan Opera star, an English cathedral anthem, and a Bach prelude and fugue, all of these and more in one service, but the best thing was that whatever we did was done with the best taste, and to the best of everyone’s ability.

Johnnie Carl, a fantastic musician, was in charge of the instrumental program and contemporary music. It was a learning experience for all of us, and I thoroughly enjoyed my 16-plus years there. The people made it: the choir especially. 

 

And you just happened to be on television every week, too!

Yes, eventually I got over being nervous about cameras peering over my shoulder, and occasionally I’d look up and see a cameraman standing on top of the organ console getting ready to shoot something! It was all very enjoyable, and many stories can be told about that!

 

That’s almost a book.

Oh, easily! One of those stories is about Alicia the tiger that was born at the cathedral. Her mother was one of the 60 animals used in the “Glory of Easter” production. I knew her mother, and her mother’s trainer. After Alicia was about a week old I went to the animal compound and played with her mother a bit, and the trainer gradually moved Alicia closer. Her mother didn’t object, so I picked up Alicia (she weighed only 35 pounds) and scratched her stomach and played with her every day for two weeks after that. Tigers (tame ones, anyway) are somewhat like elephants—they can bond with you, remember you, and when you see them after being away for months they’ll come right over and nuzzle you like a kitten—with the trainer nearby, of course.

It used to scare my staff to death when she’d come to my office and come right over and want to play. She was from an animal training facility that provided animals for movies, and had a reputation for being the most-tame “cat” in the business. She’s retired now. Organists all over the world were fascinated, and wherever I traveled—Jean Guillou’s apartment in Paris, or one in Berlin—there was one of the photos framed.

 

After the Crystal Cathedral, you went to the First Congregational Church, Los Angeles, for three years (1998–2001).

Right. When the Crystal Cathedral organ went in, their nose went out of joint at First Congregational Church because, up to that point, they had the largest organ in the area, so they set about to make it bigger and better than the Crystal Cathedral organ. About the time that the organ was finished, their organist Lloyd Holtzgraf retired, and they said, “Okay, we’ve got the bigger organ. Now we want the big organist from the other place.”

As Rev. Schuller had done earlier, the Congregationalists made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. At the heart of it was simply the fact that I was really worn out from all that I’d had to do at the Crystal Cathedral. I was playing the organ less and less and doing administrative work and conducting more. So I thought it would be rewarding to play the organ for awhile. I went to First Congregational Church with the understanding that I would only stay three years and retire on my 70th birthday, which I did right to the day in 2001.

That was a wonderful time there, too. Thomas Somerville, a great Bach scholar, was the director of music, and we did wonderful music. The congregation just loved that organ and would remain motionless and utterly quiet during preludes and postludes. It was a great place to make music—a smart move, and I’m so glad that I did it.

 

And since 2001, you have been organ artist in residence at St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church in Palm Desert, California. 

When it came time to retire, I decided not to move back east—I’d already shoveled enough snow! I had many friends in Palm Springs and had visited there a lot and decided to retire there. I’d even purchased a home three years earlier and was able to rent it out until I needed it.

When I moved to Palm Springs, John Wright had come from Memphis to St. Margaret’s Church as organist and choirmaster. I had opened a new organ in his church in San Antonio, Texas, years before. He invited me to practice at St. Margaret’s whenever I wanted, as long as I played a recital during the year. I said, “Okay.” I was still out on the road finishing up several recitals that I had on the books. This went on for a couple years, and he said, “Why don’t you play for church once in a while.” I said, “Oh no. I’ve done that and I’m tired.” But he kept after me and I finally agreed. In recent years, I have been playing at least two Sundays a month and sometimes more often than that, plus all of the festival services. John is then able to concentrate on conducting the choir—a very good choir—and the organ is a large four-manual Quimby. Friends who visit are always amazed to find, out in the middle of the desert, a big choir, big church, big organ. I think they thought that we beat on bamboo! But, it’s been very enjoyable, and it is a wonderful congregation. I can walk in and play and walk out, and I don’t have to attend staff meetings. After a lifetime of doing that, I’m happy just to be able to play the organ.

 

That takes us to another leg of your journey: your performing career and association with the Murtagh and now Karen McFarlane artist management. As far back as I can I remember, I can see your smiling face on the back page of magazines (The Diapason and The American Organist). When did you start with the management?

Soon after I went to Riverside—I can’t remember the exact date. I was with the management for over 40 years.

Lilian Murtagh was the assistant to Bernard LaBerge, the famous manager of organists and other musicians in this country. After LaBerge’s death in 1952, she continued as head of the organ division (under what had become Colbert-LaBerge). She then purchased the organ division in 1962 and continued until her death in 1976 when Karen McFarlane became president. Murtagh was a dear, dear lady and so very good as a manager. 

It was great to get to know all of the famous organists who were with the management: it was a wonderful relationship. 

Lilian had gotten to know my secretary at Riverside, Karen McFarlane, and after Lilian became ill and realized that she didn’t have long to live, she asked Karen to consider taking over the management. Thus Karen McFarlane became the manager from 1976–2000.

 

So you and Karen McFarlane go way back.

We go way, way back! She had done some playing for me and was my secretary at Riverside. Then she became my concert manager. She’s like a sister and is a very dear friend.

When I retired I intended to finish recitals that I already had on the books, but I really didn’t intend to play anymore, so I asked them to please take my picture off the back page. I’ve curtailed my performing to maybe two or three concerts a year, mainly because the travel is becoming more difficult.

 

Do you have any more recordings in the works? 

No, I did my last one in 2010 (Gothic Records) on the magnificent Casavant organ, Opus 1230, in the Memorial Chapel at the University of Redlands. Recording is very nerve-wracking at my age. I can still play adequately as long as a microphone has not been turned on. When that happens, I become the Florence Foster Jenkins of the organ!

Going back to the LP days, I think that there’s a total of about 30 recordings. A lot are from Mirrosonic, Vista, Decca, and, of course, Gothic. It’s not an enormous number—many people record a lot more—and some of those are organ and some are with choir.

Some things I’ve recorded more than once, and I don’t really apologize for that. Marie-Claire Alain was once asked why she recorded three sets of the complete Bach works; she answered, “Because my ideas change or I learn.” It’s the same with all of us, and I would hate to think that we were not constantly changing.

 

Please tell us about your varied teaching experiences, the positions you’ve held, and your students. 

I’ve had a whole bunch. The first formal teaching that I did was at the Guilmant Organ School (1899–ca. 1970) in New York. It was established in the early 20th century by William Carl, who was the organist at First Presbyterian Church, New York City. He had been a student of Guilmant. I came to it late, actually just the last three years of its life, and I had about eight to ten students. Then I began teaching organ and accompanying the choir at Teachers College, Columbia University. I also did some private teaching at Union Seminary where I was also the fieldwork supervisor; I would go out to students’ churches, take notes, and make suggestions. 

In 1973, I became head of the organ department at the Manhattan School of Music. At that time, it was housed in the old Juilliard School buildings across the street from the Riverside Church, which was very convenient. I held that position for eight years during the 1970s until I left New York for California. 

When I first went to California, there was absolutely no time for teaching. But after I finally “retired,” playing almost no recitals and just playing at St. Margaret’s, in 2007 I became the university organist and artist teacher of organ for the University of Redlands, just an hour west toward Los Angeles. 

The Casavant organ there, originally installed in 1927, was completely restored in 2002 at the same time that the building was being retrofitted for earthquakes. It’s a marvelous organ, totally enclosed—even the three 32-foot stops. It’s a thrilling sound, even with the orchestra and choir and soloists. Just a short while ago, we were able to fill up all of the blank knobs on the console and add another 20 ranks.

I have very good students there. 

 

What about the composer in you?

Oh, I’m not a composer! 

 

You wrote a wonderful Trumpet Tune.

I don’t know how wonderful it is, but people seem to enjoy it. One man has even made a handbell arrangement of it that is published. There are a few other organ pieces, too.

The other compositions are mainly anthems, and they were all written when I was at the Crystal Cathedral, because I couldn’t find what I wanted to fit with the service of the day or they were not the right length. They all had to be written in major keys, had to be loud, and had to end with the sopranos on high C, so there isn’t a great deal of variety. But the publishers wanted them: because I was the organist at the Crystal Cathedral, and they thought they would sell! I don’t know if they ever did or not—a few of them did, I guess—but I make no claims to being a composer, whatsoever. 

There are several hymn arrangements and preludes that are also published. In particular, Toccata on “O God, Our Help, In Ages Past” is fun to watch— it made good television. It has lots of work jumping manuals, which idea I got from Petr Eben’s Moto Ostinato. I played it for him once and he burst out laughing. I said, “Well, it was your idea!”

 

Please reflect upon your time as President of the American Guild of Organists (2002–2008), which is when I first got to know you. 

I was amazed that I got elected, and I’m sure the only reason was because of television and concerts. A lot of people don’t know most of the people who are ever nominated for office, so they usually vote for the ones who are best known. I enjoyed it very much. We had a wonderful group of people on the National Council—you were there—everybody worked well together and with the administration of the Guild. It was a very happy time and I feel that we accomplished a lot of things. In addition to the POEs (Pipe Organ Encounters), there were many highlights of my years there. I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to serve the Guild in that way.

 

What do you see as the function, the purpose, and even the future of the AGO?

I think that the Guild is very much alive. It is still very influential—it’s the largest and oldest organization (founded in 1896) of its kind for musicians and for instruments in this country. 

The only other musical organization that is older is the Royal College of Organists in London, which in 2014 is celebrating its 150th anniversary. They used to wield an enormous amount of power, and even had a big office building. The organ and organist had been well thought of in halls and cathedrals, but a recent article in the New York Times said that they have fallen on bad times and there are not as many jobs. They are now focusing on reinventing themselves by reaching out more to the general public. I don’t how they will do it, but they are determined. 

Generally speaking, I believe that the Guild is on firmer ground now than it’s ever been. I’m very optimistic about the future of the AGO and about the organ in general. There are many naysayers who think that the organ is dying and that there are too few people interested in becoming organists. This is simply not true.

Some of the major organ builders no longer exist, but there still are organs being built—some of them very large and expensive—as well as smaller organs. Along with all of the recordings that exist, I feel very optimistic about future of the organ, and I don’t believe it’s going to die anytime soon.

 

What do you like to do in your free time?

I don’t have a lot of free time, although I try to walk one to two miles daily—I am not in shape to do any great physical activity, but I do enjoy walking. I live in a two-story condominium, just so I can have the exercise of going up and down steps many times a day. I like reading, going out to eat, and I love being with friends.

There are many retired organists where I live in Palm Springs, many of whom I have known for years. It’s fun having a very nice social life, too. 

 

Very little grass grows under your feet. 

No. I learned several years ago—and I practice it religiously—that when you get into your ninth decade, you do not want to sit and stare at the wall. The day may come when I have to do that, but until it does, I’ll keep as physically and mentally active as I possibly can. I do crossword puzzles and everything I can to stay active. 

 

Do you practice everyday? 

I’m embarrassed to say that I do not. I should, but I practiced a lot in recent weeks to prepare for the recital here. 

 

Here is where humility must be brushed aside for the sake of honesty. You have everything on your résumé: you are without a doubt the most well-known and most visible organist of our day . . . 

. . . fading fast, as there are some real barn-burners coming along nowadays who are really going to go right to the top and who are creating a lot of stir in the organ world. I’m thankful for them because we need to keep the organ world alive . . . 

 

What do you see being your important contribution(s) to our profession? 

Regardless of what some people might think, I’m really modest and somewhat shy. I have been given wonderful opportunities in my career, such as having been blessed to serve in church positions most organists can only dream about. I’ve played close to 3,000 recitals in various places around the world, including a lot of daily recitals in churches, as well as being on television for over 16 years.

With the combination of things like that and teaching, I feel that I’ve helped to contribute to keeping the organ alive. I don’t believe that I’ve done any one thing in particular that I could cite as being outstanding. Rather, I’m grateful to have been given so many opportunities. I’ve tried to make the most of those opportunities for the advancement of the organ and its music. I’m more embarrassed than pleased when people compliment me.

 

At this point in your life and career what occurs to you as the most pleasurable reward resulting from your more than 70-year career?

That’s easy! In addition to being grateful for all the music making I’ve been fortunate to do, it’s the satisfaction of knowing that I’ve been able to bring joy and encouragement to others. One thing that has surprised me in recent years, and keeps happening more and more, is hearing from colleagues in the profession that my service playing or a recital or teaching, often on a very specific occasion, was a life-changing event for them in their career path. I am so very grateful for these expressions! More important, it makes me aware that all of us should take time to consider the influence we may unconsciously be having on others. 

 

Good advice for all. Thank you, Fred. You are the gem of our ocean!