The Last Vestiges of M. P. Möller?

Joseph E. Robinson

Joseph E. Robinson received his B.A. from California State University at Long Beach and his M.A. from Occidental College in Los Angeles. He studied piano with Charles Shepherd, and organ with Clarence Mader, Paul Stroud, and Robert Prichard. He studied choral conducting with Frank Pooler and Howard Swan. During 1970–71 he was an organbuilding apprentice with the Schlicker Organ Co. under the direction of Herman Schlicker. He was organist at the University United Methodist Church in Buffalo, New York, and later St. James’ United Methodist Church in Pasadena, California. Now a retired business systems analyst, he is currently organist for the Mission Lake Ward, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. His interest in pipe organs and their music was sparked years ago when, as a sixth grade student, his class was taken on a field trip to a recital on the Mormon Tabernacle Organ. He has been married 35 years to his wife Pat, who has given her support for the large pipe organ in their home. One day during construction Pat said, “You need help, and I have found just the help you need—G. Donald Harrison.” She had found a golden retriever named Harrison on a rescue site. Harrison is now a happy member of the family.

 

I meet Herman Schlicker  

After completing a master’s degree, I talked over options with my teacher, Robert Prichard. Since I was very interested in all things related to pipe organs, a career in organbuilding looked promising. Mr. Prichard was well acquainted with Herman Schlicker, and broached the subject of my joining his firm as an apprentice. Schlicker was not interested. He said that the best apprentices come right out of high school and he had bad luck with those who had master’s degrees.   

Herr Schlicker flew to Southern California on business, and so it was arranged that while he was here I would be his chauffeur. One stop that I remember was at what is now the Crystal Cathedral. Their first building contained a small Wicks organ, which was to be replaced with a substantial instrument. Schlicker was among the contenders. At another stop, I was disgusted with the way they treated Mr. Schlicker—didn’t they realize they were talking with a great man?

After our final stop, Schlicker said to come on to Buffalo, and I would be their newest apprentice. I drove my red Corvair across the country and rented a room from Mrs. Herbst, who had rented to many a Schlicker apprentice. She asked us to keep our stereo playing of organ music down—it reminded her of her husband’s funeral. 

 

The factory

The factory is described in sales literature from the late 1960s:

 

From a modest beginning, the company has expanded to include 65 persons at the Buffalo factory-office, as well as sales and service representatives throughout the United States. The construction of the present modern factory was begun in 1947, and since that time six additions have been made to the building, giving a total working area of over 36,000 square feet, and including a spacious erecting room. 

 

That there was no master plan for this expansion from the beginning was obvious. For example, there was a large room devoted to lumber, that in most respects functioned well. However, there was no loading dock, or even a door to the outside. When a lumber truck came, Herr Friedrich (foreman) would announce “LUMBER!” and we would all drop what we were doing and rush to the truck to unload the lumber piece by piece and feed them through a window in the lumber room. On a cold winter day, that was a very unpleasant task.

 

Factory tours

Occasionally music committees or groups of organists would tour the factory. I was among those selected to conduct the tours. At first I would meet visitors at the door and then physically take them through the building, saying this is where we do this, and this is where we do that. Then I witnessed a tour led by Manuel Rosales, who was then at Schlicker Organ Co. He started at the melting pot in the pipe shop, went step by step in the construction of an organ, ending in the erecting room. Even though there was some crisscrossing in that method, it explained the organbuilding process better, and I changed my approach accordingly.  

 

Organization chart

When Schlicker described the apprentice position to me, he said that I would work in all aspects of organbuilding and eventually be able to do any task. In fact, his factory was full of workers that could do any task. He was proud of that. So, organization was simple: Herman Schlicker, President; Ken List, Vice President; Herr Friedrich, Foreman; organ builders, and apprentice, with a few exceptions such as the accountant. In practice, however, people would tend to gravitate to that which they did best. Take Don Bohall, for example. In many organizations, he would be referred to as Service Manager. He could quickly diagnose and fix problems, clearly the best man to call if an organ under the ten-year warranty experienced an unexpected malfunction. I asked Don how he managed to be exempt from the lumber calls. He told me that after I had been there a few years and made myself valuable in a particular operation I could announce that I was no longer going to do lumber. But I would have to be sure I was valuable enough. Some who tried that too soon were no longer doing lumber or anything else at the firm.  

 

Apprentice duties

The apprentice program at Schlicker’s was more typical of the German apprentice system than what we are used to in the USA. The view at the Schlicker Organ Company was: we pay you for this time and so you do whatever we ask of you, be it sweeping, cleaning messes, painting walls, or shoveling snow! So this, I thought, is why people who have worked so hard for a master’s degree don’t like it here. I was told a story of one such, who after driving from California worked one day, got in his car and drove back home. One unhappy apprentice had given the place a nickname “Stalag 15-30” [the address was 1530 Military Road]. Stories of this nature were a kind of unofficial initiation exam. 

 

Information on a need-to-know basis

At graduate school, you are filled with information and encouraged to ask questions and find answers. There were many things I wanted to know. For example, on most three-manual Schlicker organs, the pedal contains a unit 16–8 principal rank, but the 16 and 8-foot stopped flutes are always separate ranks. How come? I learned that awhile before my arrival, some former employees had stolen plans, records, scalings, and materials—everything they needed to make copies of Schlicker organs. So Mr. Schlicker was now cautious in sharing information, and an apprentice is at the bottom of the totem pole in need-to-know. 

I got my lecture in Schlicker organ design in a most unexpected way. One holiday season, there was in the factory a 32′ Bombarde, which was to be placed in an organ previously finished with that stop prepared for. Schlicker had placed a small two-rank unit organ in a Buffalo bank for publicity purposes. Since I could play, I was assigned to play Christmas music on the little organ while the bank was open. One day after the bank closed, I returned to the factory, where I was greeted by Ken List. Ken said, “So how is Merry Christmas on the Gedeckt?” I responded, “Well, it’s OK, but that little organ really lacks a proper foundation. Too bad we could not have hooked up that 32′ Bombarde with it.”  

Schlicker overheard the conversation, and while I thought anyone would recognize that I was being outlandishly facetious, Schlicker thought I was serious that the third rank in an organ should be a 32′ Bombarde. “You are there representing the Schlicker Organ Company,” he said. “You know nothing. A lot has to happen in an organ before you include a 32′ Bombarde.” So I heard all about small to medium to large organs in a very informative lecture, though I could have done without the frequent “You know nothing” comments.  

 

A wiring error

An electro-pneumatic organ was being set up for testing. There was a testing wiring harness used for such purposes. I said, “I have never done this before; there are surely a lot of wires here.” I was told, “There is nothing to it, just start here at the end, and take each wire in sequence.” So I did, but it was the wrong end. Final result was that low C sounded from the highest note on the keyboard and vice versa. I started to play a hymn. “What on earth are you doing?” “I thought I might never again have the opportunity to hear music inverted and wanted to see what it sounds like.” “You idiot, why don’t you just broadcast to the world what a fool you are!” So I stopped abruptly. Fortunately this was the testing wiring harness and not the organ’s permanent wiring.

 

A bright and dim bulb

Sometimes my education was of use. When something unusual came along, such as “What the heck is an 8/9 None?,” I would know the answer. There was a fine older gentleman, whose name I unfortunately no longer remember, who was in charge of Schlicker consoles. He would review with me console layouts, controls, order of stops, etc. He said, “You know much more than those guys. You should be recognized for your knowledge and taken off the lumber run.” Obviously I liked him. On the other hand, as the wiring example shows, in construction matters I was a rookie. One day I was assigned to a task and heard rumblings, “I don’t know why they assigned HIM this task. HE doesn’t even know how to use a HAM-MER.” The speaker usually got this task. Since in this case it was an overtime task, I was robbing him of time-and-a-half pay. Welcome to the world of office politics. I did not like it, and was a rookie there as well. Fortunately for future employment I learned 1) never be cruel to someone and 2) never be the company scapegoat. 

 

Organ pipes

Most flue pipes were manufactured in the pipe shop. Reed pipes built to Schlicker specifications were imported from Europe. For flue pipes it was considered that for the vast majority of cases, such things as tuning scrolls, pipe slotting, and tuning collars were detrimental. Take tuning collars, for example. A tuning collar means that at the top of the pipe there is a sudden increase in scale. On bass pipes that were nearly cut to length, the effect is minimal. But on treble pipes, the distortion of pipe shape is considerable. Thus Schlicker organs had pipes cut to length and were cone tuned. This practice was one reason why Schlicker mixtures had outstanding cohesion with the principal chorus.  

 

The Schlicker sound

Open-toe voicing, low wind pressure, low cutups, etc. are only part of the story. It is well known that some Aeolian-Skinner contracts, such as the Mormon Tabernacle and Grace Cathedral, specified that G. Donald Harrison do the final voicing. It is the artist who does the finishing that gives an organ its distinctive sound; thus organs of the same manufacturer may sound different depending upon who does the finishing. At the Schlicker Company, we had two superb voicers who finished at least the more important instruments. Wally Guzowski voiced with a bold, fresh, exciting sound. I decided that someday I would like him to voice my residence organ when I could afford such. Louis Rothenberger Jr. had a more elegant, refined sound. [We always specified the Jr. because LR senior had also been a voicer.] 

They were aware that their styles were different, and Wally told me that they worked together to try and make a uniform result. There should be a specific sound quality associated with the brand. These men produced some instruments of distinction. As voicers, they would physically adjust pipes. As finishers in the final location, they would sit at the console, playing through a rank of pipes, pick a note and shout a command to someone like me in the pipes: “Lower the languid,” “Pull the upper lip forward,” “Narrow the windway,” “Increase the cutup,” and so forth.

 

Deterioration of the Schlicker sound 

As years have passed, I have noticed that some of my favorite instruments no longer have the magic they possessed when they were new. More is involved than just my ears getting older; recordings of the original instruments captured the magic. Here is what I think may have happened. Schlicker instruments were cone tuned and were very stable in tuning within themselves, but the whole instrument goes flat in winter and sharp in summer.

Take a fictitious organ service man Sam Cifodelance, for example. Sam gets a customer who has a Schlicker organ. He orders some tuning cones from a supply house. In winter, when the organ goes flat, he pounds the pipes with the pointed end of the tuning cones to bring the pitch up to A440. In summer, he pounds the pipes with the other end to bring the pipes down to A440. Over time this attention alters pipe mouth dimensions slightly, and what was an outstanding sound becomes an ordinary sound. 

This theory is an educated guess, but I do know that who does the servicing makes a huge difference, is a concern of organbuilders, and improper servicing deteriorates an organ’s sound. It saddens me that some of my favorite instruments have deteriorated. 

 

Schlicker’s bias

Bad for Aeolian-Skinner, but providential for Herman Schlicker was the rise in popularity of the Orgelbewegung. With his strong German accent and experience in German organbuilding, he was in an ideal place to be the foremost American builder in that style. I discussed with Schlicker a trip to Europe I was going to take. We went through the German instruments I was going to see. “Yah, you must see that,” he would say. For Holland, “There are some good things there.” For France, “A waste of time.”  

 

The good consultants

One of the first things you do as an apprentice is to rack pipes on a windchest. Here were some pipes that looked like a double row of little milk cans with their lids soldered on top. This experimental rank had been specified by Paul Manz. Louie Rothenberger Jr. was having a very difficult time getting the pipes to speak at all. I made the comment, “I don’t see why we need organ consultants at all. A church should just choose a builder and let their expertise do the job.” Louie responded, “You are new here. You will eventually have the opportunity to visit many organs. When you do, compare those that were built under consultants such as Paul Manz, your teacher Clarence Mader, Paul Bunjes, E. Power Biggs and so forth, with those that had no consultant. I think you will find that our best organs had consultants such as these.” He was right!

When I was at Occidental College, I played among other things French Romantic organ music that I liked. I commented to my teacher Clarence Mader how well the Schlicker played that music. He replied, “Yes, you need French reeds to play that music and I requested that Schlicker include them in the Swell One division.” I bring this up because on his own, Herman Schlicker would not have given the Swell One division a French flavor. Somehow they managed to do that and yet have it integrate beautifully with the rest of the instrument, resulting in far greater versatility. The very best instruments somehow achieved a result of being more than the sum of their parts, a joy to play and to hear. 

 

The not-so-good consultants

These are the ones who think they know more about organbuilding than the organbuilder, specifying scales, wind pressures, mouth widths, voicing techniques and so forth. One such organ had so many conditions that the final result did not have the distinctive Schlicker sound. Herman Schlicker summed it up thus: “It might as well have been built by ———.” [I don’t know if ——— would want to claim it either.]

In finishing an organ, Wally Guzowski explained to me, “You have to be very diplomatic with the organists. When they tell you what they want, smile and nod your head like you agree with them.  When they are gone, disregard everything they said. Organists know nothing about organ finishing.” A quite common occurrence in finishing an organ would be the arrival of the organist with some last requests for what was going to be his instrument. At that time, it is too late. A successful finishing process brings out the maximum beauty a pipe was designed to give. An organist’s request to now make a German Principal more like a French Montre, for example, robs the instrument of its potential. That decision should have been made long before.¹

 

Insubordination

I was given two rules, which probably came about due to prior difficulties with employees who were also organists: 1) When you are on an assignment do not play the organ, even during a break or after you are done. Customers are charged by the hour and we don’t want them to think they are paying for you to play the organ. 2) Because you may be called at any time to travel, do not accept a church organist position. It is not fair to the company, the church, or yourself. Rule 1 was difficult to manage; we worked on some beautiful instruments. But I did manage this rule in spite of working on some instruments I longed to play. 

 After arriving in Buffalo, each Sunday I visited various churches to see and hear organs and get a feeling of that particular church. One Sunday, I visited the University United Methodist Church. While certainly not the finest organ in town, the people were very friendly and when they discovered that I was from California and knew no one in town, they invited me to meals and made me feel at home and said, “You have friends here.” Shortly thereafter their organist moved away. “Do you play, Joe? Would you mind substituting for a while till we find a permanent organist?” A few Sundays later, “We want you to be our organist.” “Impossible—I can be called out of town at any time without notice.” “We can have someone fill in on the piano when that happens. Please be our organist.” It seemed like this would work; they knew I would leave without notice when Schlicker called. I would fulfill my obligation to him, and what he did not know would not hurt anyone. This happy arrangement continued for many months. 

I have a couple theories of how Ken List found out about this arrangement. “Joe, you have to tell Schlicker.” I dreaded that conversation, but I was caught, so I set up a time to meet with him. Schlicker told me he understood after all the time I had put into learning to play the organ that I would not want to just let the talent die. So he instructed me to resign and he would arrange for me to have practice time at his church, which had a very nice organ. As a naive young person, I thought as long as I can do my job, he has no business telling me what I can and can’t do on my own time. And there were many around me who encouraged that thinking. Perhaps more than the mundane tasks, this kind of thing is the reason Schlicker had trouble with master’s degree organists. In subsequent employment ‘my own time’ would be redefined by being on call 24/7 with aids such as beepers and later, cell phones. One boss would even follow me into a restroom stall. So now I see that Schlicker was at least trying to meet me half way. 

 

Money

Perhaps because organs are very expensive instruments, money is a problem in organbuilding. Herman Schlicker was a master of finance. We did not look forward to his daily rounds at the factory. “Robinson, why don’t you gold-plate it while you are at it?” That comment translates to the work is very good, but your progress is too slow and we can’t afford it. So I would speed up. Then, “Robinson, what is this? It will never do! The Schlicker organ is a quality instrument.” While making us employees stressed out during his rounds, he did achieve the right balance, getting us to do good work with enough production speed to be cost effective and keep the firm in business. After he died, that balance was lost and the firm eventually went bankrupt, as have far too many organbuilding firms.²

As an apprentice I made very little. One day I got an unexpected raise. Congress had just passed an increase in the minimum wage, and the salary I was making was below the new minimum. Schlicker added an extra five cents an hour because he did not want to be seen as paying minimum wage. As an apprentice, I rented a room. Most full-fledged organbuilders lived in apartments. I wanted to live in a house in the suburbs and I did not see that happening at any time in the future if I stayed on my current path. Many things I loved about organbuilding—your part in making a thing of beauty. But there were other important things to me that were either denied or out of reach. So my house in the suburbs was financed by leaving organbuilding and becoming a business systems analyst. And I am quite happy with my self-built 22-rank residence organ. Unfortunately, lack of space in my residence made it impossible for the third rank to be a 32′ Bombarde.

 

The author wishes to thank Justin Matters for permission to use the photographs of Schlicker organs.

 

 

Dennis E. Northway

Dr. Dennis Northway is Parish Musician at Grace Episcopal Church, Oak Park, Illinois, a former Dean of the Chicago AGO chapter, Artistic Director of the Handel Week Festival in Oak Park, Illinois, an employee of John-Paul Buzard Organbuilders, recently Councilor for Research and Publications of the Organ Historical Society, and Chair of the 2012 OHS National Convention. He is the co-author, with Stephen Schnurr, of Pipe Organs of Chicago and Pipe Organs of Chicago—Volume Two, author of To Touch the Garment’s Hem: meditations before a choir rehearsal, and editor of The ChicAGO Centenary Anthology.

As part of the Organ Historical   Society’s 57th national convention in metropolitan Chicago (to take place July 8–13, 2012), we will visit the corner of Milwaukee and Addison streets in Chicago. Located there is Carl Schurz High School, a Prairie-style building from 1909 given Chicago Landmark status. It boasts a 1,800-seat auditorium with a three-second reverberation time and a spectacular four-manual pipe organ. We hope you will join us in Chicago to hear this instrument! This is the story of that remarkable pipe organ as told in correspondence.

The story of Carl Schurz High School, and its four-manual 1935 Whitelegg-designed M. P. Möller pipe organ, Opus 6373, is well documented in the more than 250-page factory file now housed in the American Organ Archives of the Organ Historical Society. This is a landmark instrument—it is intact, and in need of restoration. The saga of the instrument, and the final negotiations and installation presented in correspondence, is an important and interesting case study of a ground-breaking pipe organ. The instrument was once appreciated and has recently been largely neglected. It has not been heard in concert in nearly 30 years. Fortunately, neglect and disuse have preserved a large instrument that represents a revolution in pipe-organ building in America.  

We begin with a Western Union telegram dated September 1, 1935 from organ consultant Calvin Brown to Richard O. Whitelegg (1871–1944), Tonal Director of Möller, which states:

 

SUGGEST YOU COME HERE EARLY NEXT WEEK STOP FOUR MANUAL DEAL WHICH BELIEVE CAN TURN YOUR WAY ANSWER BY WESTERN UNION¹

Whitelegg came to America and worked with the Welte firm that later became the Welte-Tripp organ company. Calvin Brown’s interest in Whitelegg’s work may stem from the latter’s work as the tonal supervisor for a four-manual instrument on the near South Side of the city in St. Augustine Roman Catholic Church.² This large instrument in a generous acoustic would have made a profound impression on the listener. 

The Schurz instrument, with its vanguard specification for the time, is also highly noteworthy with regard to the speed of its implementation and completion. The specification is dated October 29, 1935 and was accepted in contract form dated November 4, 1935 in Hagerstown, Maryland. The Swell and Great divisions, played from the four-manual console, were heard in public recital on December 19, 1935—six weeks and three days later!  

The remarkable specification below includes an identical version of the three Great mixtures: the III Mixture, the III–V Cornet, and the amazing IV Harmonics, detailed by John Gladden Barr (b. 1938) in his 1977 dissertation, “A Tonal History of Pipe Organs Built by M. P. Möller, Incorporated.” This “experimental” chorus had been built by Whitelegg and placed in the west wall of the Möller erecting room in 1934.³

The compositions, listed in the dissertation, are given below:

 

Mixture III

15th 15th 15th 

19th 12th 12th 

22nd 19th 8th 

#1–23 24–40 41–61

C–A# B–D# E–C

Unison: 44 scale at 8′ CC, 1/4 mouth

Quint: 2 notes smaller, 1/5 mouth

 

Cornet III–V

1st

8th 8th

12th 12th 12th

15th 15th 15th

17th 17th 17th

#1–12 13–24 25–61

C–B C–B C–C

Unison: 42 scale at 8′ CC, 2/7 mouth

Quint: 2 notes smaller, 1/4 mouth

Tierce: 4 notes smaller, 1/4 mouth

 

Harmonics IV 

17th 17th 10th 

flat 21st flat 14th 8th 

19th 19th 12th 

22nd 15th 15th 

1–39 40–51 52–61

C–D D#–D D#–C

Unison: 48 scale at 8′ CC, 2/9 mouth

Quint: 2 notes smaller, 1/5 mouth

Tierce: 4 notes smaller, 1/5 mouth

21st flatted [Septième]: 8 notes smaller, 1/5 mouth

 

Carl Schurz High School, Chicago, Illinois; 1935 M. P. Mљller, Opus 6373

GREAT (Manual II, 5″ wind)

16′ Double Diapason (metal, sc 35, 73)

8′ First Diapason (metal, sc 43, 61)

8′ Second Diapason (ext 16′ Dble Diap)

8′ Harmonic Flute (metal, sc 50, 61)

4′ Octave (metal, sc 56, 61)

22⁄3′ Twelfth (metal, sc 65, 61)

2′ Fifteenth (metal, sc 70, 61)

III–V Cornet (metal, 269 pipes)

III Mixture (metal, 183)

IV Harmonics (metal, 244)

Chimes (from Choir)

Great 16′

Great Unison Off

Great 4′

SWELL (Manual III, enclosed,
7″ wind pressure)

16′ Salicional (metal, sc 46, 97 pipes)

8′ Geigen Principal (metal, sc 46, 73)

8′ Rohr Floete (wood and metal, 73)

8′ Salicional (ext, 16′ Salicional)

8′ Voix Celeste (TC, metal, sc 59, 61)

4′ Geigen (ext, 8′ Geigen Principal)

4′ Chimney Flute (ext, 8′ Rohr Floete)

4′ Salicet (ext, 16′ Salicional)

2′ Flautino (metal, sc 73, 61)

V Plein Jeu (metal, 305 pipes)

16′ Contra Fagotto (metal, 97)

8′ Trumpet (metal, 73 pipes)

8′ Fagotto (ext, 16′ Contra Fagotto)

8′ Vox Humana (in second enclosure,

metal, 61)

4′ Clarion (ext, 16′ Contra Fagotto)

Tremolo

Swell 16′

Swell Unison Off

Swell 4′

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

16′ Spitz Floete (metal, sc 40, 85 pipes)

8′ Diapason (metal, sc 47, 73)

8′ Spitz Floete (ext, 16′ Spitz Floete)

8′ Spitz Floete Celeste (TC, sc 52, 61)

4′ Principal (metal, sc 62, 73)

22⁄3′ Twelfth (capped metal, sc 72, 61)

2′ Fifteenth (metal, sc 76, 61)

8′ Clarinet (metal, 73 pipes)

8′ Vox Humana (from Swell)

Tremolo

Chimes (25 tubes)

Choir 16′

Choir Unison Off

Choir 4′

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

8′ Stentor Diapason (metal, 73 pipes)

8′ Major Flute (wood and metal, 73)

8′ Gross Gamba (metal, sc 56, 73)

8′ Gross Gamba Celeste (metal, sc 56, 73)

8′ Tuba Mirabilis (metal, 73)

Tremolo

Solo 16′

Solo Unison Off

Solo 4′

PEDAL

32′ Resultant (from Diap and Spitz Fl)

16′ Diapason (5″ w.p., wood, 44 pipes)

16′ Second Diapason (Gt 16′ Dble Diap)

16′ Contra Bass (5″ w.p., stopped wood, 44)

16′ Spitz Floete (from Choir)

16′ Salicional (from Swell)

8′ Octave (ext, 16′ Diapason)

8′ Flute (ext, 16′ Contra Bass)

8′ Spitz Floete (from Choir)

16′ Trombone (8″ w.p., in Solo enclo- sure, metal, 56 pipes)

16′ Fagotto (from Swell)

8′ Trombone (ext, 16′ Trombone)

4′ Trombone (ext, 16′ Trombone)

Chimes (from Choir)

INTER-DIVISIONAL COUPLERS

Great to Pedal 8, 4

Swell to Pedal 8, 4

Choir to Pedal 8

Solo to Pedal 8, 4

Swell to Great 16, 8, 4

Choir to Great 16, 8, 4

Solo to Great 8, 4

Swell to Choir 16, 8, 4

Solo to Choir 8, 4

Choir to Swell 16, 8, 4

Solo to Swell 8, 4

Great to Solo 16, 8, 4

Choir to Solo

Swell to Solo

 

ACCESSORIES

12 General pistons (1–12 thumb, 1–6 toe)

8 Great and Pedal pistons and Cancel (thumb)

8 Swell and Pedal pistons and Cancel (thumb)

6 Choir and Pedal pistons and Cancel (thumb)

6 Solo and Pedal pistons and Cancel (thumb)

6 Pedal pistons and Cancel (affecting couplers, thumb and toe)

General Cancel (thumb)

Combination setter (thumb, with indicator light)

Pedal to Great pistons on/off (thumb)

Pedal to Swell pistons on/off (thumb)

Pedal to Choir pistons on/off (thumb)

Pedal to Solo pistons on/off (thumb)

Great to Pedal reversible (toe)

Test button and light (for current)

Chimes damper (toe reversible)

Harp damper [sic] (toe reversible)

All Swells to Swell reversible (toe, with indicator light)

Swell expression shoe (with indicator dial)

Choir expression shoe (with indicator dial)

Solo expression shoe (with indicator dial)

Crescendo shoe (with indicator dial)

Sforzando reversible (thumb and toe, with indicator light)

What follows is a virtual flurry of correspondence addressing various façade decisions, descriptions of changes in specification, commentary on blower placement, wiring, etc. We shall see that many letters crossed in the mail on the same day! Because of the close time frame and the extant fairly complete correspondence on this groundbreaking instrument, let us explore the documentation for insights into Opus 6373 and its manufacture.

On stationery from the Board of Education, City of Chicago, Carl Schurz High School, 3601 Milwaukee Avenue dated November 22 to the Möller Organ Company, we read:

Gentlemen–

Enclosed please find the print of organ console which is o.k. Please note notation on reverse side of the blue print—console is to be movable and we are planning to place it on the stage, with three junction boards—one in center, and one on each side. Please tell Mr. Whitelegg I have changed my mind about “Horn” for “Solo Organ”—and wish Stentorphone in its place as originally specified.

Sincerely,

LeRoy Wetzel

The dummy façade pipes in the display were intended from the outset, as noted in a letter from M. P. Möller, Jr. to LeRoy Wetzel (Schurz High School’s choir director) on November 25:

Mr. Whitelegg has passed into the factory instructions that the display pipes are to be of natural zinc finish. Your comments on this will be brought to his attention.

November 26 finds Whitelegg writing to LeRoy Wetzel at the high school:

 

In reply to your letter of the 22nd, referring to the movable console, we note you suggest having three junction boards, and while this can be done, it is really very impractical. This method would lead to all sorts of trouble—short circuits, etc., besides considerable additional expense. You should arrange to have the cables come up either at the left or right hand side of the stage, preferably right in the corner, with long enough cable to reach to the center of the stage.  

In regards to the console being movable, this being an all electric action, there will only be cable attachments and it will be possible to move the console wherever you desire; but really as regards having those union boards, that just isn’t done, as in all cases tried previously it ended up in having to make a permanent job of just the one set of cables.

We are planning to ship the first part of the organ by freight Saturday, comprising the platform, pedal pipes, pedal chests, etc., and we are having men from the factory reach there to take care of the installation. I expect to be in Chicago in about ten days time. The organ in the Church of St. John of God Roman Catholic will be ready for ok, and possibly you will be able to give the time to run over and try the instrument as soon as it is tuned up.

Regarding the location of the blower, I am still of the opinion that it is more advisable to place it in the fresh air inlet; there is always a 12 degree rise of temperature from the air entering the blower until the time it gets into the organ and considering that underneath the stage that temperature is running as high as seventy and eighty, would bring the temperature of the wind up to ninety degrees, which is somewhat high and could be harmful in the way of drying out woodwork, etc. However, this matter can be left for decision until the men arrive for the installation.

 This was to be a special organ in many ways. In a factory order from Whitelegg dated November 27, 1935, we read:

 

The type of organ bench required is the pattern made after the one sent to Hugh McAmis Studios, New York, only made of oak in finish to match the console. As this console will be out on the stage for many public occasions it is necessary to have this special organ bench in preference to the standard style.

 

November 27, Whitelegg writes to Calvin Brown, 4539 North Richmond Street:

 

Dear Cal: I have just received your letter referring to the location of the blower for the Carl Schurz High School. Mr. Wetzel has written mentioning that there was some opposition regarding the location of the blower. Frankly, there is everything in its favor as regards the location of the blower in the fresh air inlet. There is always at least a twelve degree rise in temperature from the air intake to the outlet, which just for a few exceptional occasions, the temperature will normally delivered from the blower be around about 70 degrees. On the other hand, if the blower is located immediately under the stage, the temperature there is any where from 70 to 80, and figuring the rise of temperature as it passes through the blower, will be considerably warmer or a higher degree of temperature than would be good for the woodwork. However, you can settle this matter when the installation commences, but my preference would be where I suggested.  

Regarding the location of console, we have heard from Mr. Wetzel and they are thinking of having the console on the stage with three union boards for attaching console, either on each side or the center. This, while it can be done, is right out of the question in every case where this
[s]ort of console attachment has been tried, and the result has been failure. Here are almost certain difficulties as regards short circuits or bad contacts and always ends up in a permanent connection being made. My suggestion is that if the console is to be on the stage, considering the orchestra pit as first requested, it would be better to decide on which side the console would be permanently located and then have cables long enough to extend to the center of the stage.

I expect to be in Chicago again within the next ten days or so, no doubt will be seeing something of you then.

 

Calvin Brown was the recipient of a letter from Whitelegg dated December 3 discussing the console, blower placement, belted generators, commission, and concludes:

 

We are making every effort to have this organ playing for the 19th, that would be the Swell and Great divisions, hence the reason for going ahead with all parts and the necessity to eventually send a large staff to Chicago to get the work done. Well, I expect to be in Chicago next week, probably this week-end and will give you a ring in case there should be anything required in regard to the Carl Schurz School for discussion.

The same day, from Möller sales manager E. O. Shulenberger⁴ (who was “on the road” in Chicago) to M. P. “Ted” Möller, Jr., we read: 

 

I spent all forenoon with Mr. Brown and the Schurz High School. First, because Brown asked me to go out, and secondly, because Buterbaugh⁵ who arrived here yesterday with Kenneth ’phoned and said he thought they would have Union trouble. I am quite sure that we will have some trouble before we are through. Every employee around the School, including half dozen or more engineers, electricians, janitors, and some others, amounting to about a total of fifty-five in all, are Union men, and the Chief Engineer, while courteous regarding certain things, says that the electrical union even interfered when he fixed one of the electric clocks. It was a sad mistake, I think, that we built the platform there. Maybe the steel workers won’t find it out, but there is every reason to believe they will. That and the electrical work is the most serious. I talked to the Chief Engineer, the Principal of the School, Mr. Wetzel, and some others, and they said they will do what they can, and I told Buterbaugh and Kenneth to work and not talk.

In a letter written while he was in the Möller Chicago office in the McCormick Building, 332 South Michigan,
E. O. Shulenberger writes to M. P. (Ted) Möller, Jr., on December 4, 1935: 

 

Dear Ted:

I have your letter of December 2d. The boys worked last night until ten o’clock, and got part of the steel-work of the platform up, and so far without any interference. I understood that Brown’s commission was to be figured on the basis of contract price, less motor wiring, starter and platform, which as I remember was $13,650.00, or whichever was my original estimate, plus a Clarinet. That is what Mr. Whitelegg told me at the time. I will try to find out, if possible, about the grille, but I am not sure that I can make the contact today, and if I don’t leave the city later today, I will the first thing in the morning. I understood, however, that the sawed out grille as approved by the architect was what was wanted, and the architect, Iam [sic] informed, is final regarding all of those matters.  

I wrote you about the junction yesterday, and have suggested that the wiring be done to a junction board, placed on an apron of the stage, and the wiring from there permanent, since there will be no air. I think Mr. Brown will work that out, and he has the confidence of Mr. Wetzel, and would be the best medium to take it up.

I advise strongly against Kenneth attempting the motor wiring, and have told Buterbaugh toget [sic] an estimate from an electrical contractor out there, and send the estimate to Hagerstown. All the employees there are union men, and are watching what is going on. So far they have not interfered with the steel-work, but the Chief Engineer, who is in charge of the entire building and equipment, is a union man, and told me if the Delegate came in and found our men doing electrical wiring, he would start real trouble. The Chief Engineer said he don’t care, but that they are checked up very frequently, and what we might save by Kenneth doing it, might be more than lost by trouble that would be caused, and furthermore, difficulty with the inspectors could be expected.

Whether the generator is direct-connected or belt-driven probably won’t be an issue, but as we have all decided that the place for that blower is in the engine-room, there is plenty of room for a direct-connected generator. It would be impossible to put the blower and air duct where Mr. Whitelegg suggested and keep the organ in tune, as the temperature in there yesterday was below thirty, with a terrific draft, and no-one here wants to put it there. The engine-room is not hot, never above seventy, generally considerably below, and has all kinds of space. 

 

On December 10, 1935 Richard Whitelegg writes to LeRoy Wetzel:

 

The last of the Carl Schurz High School organ will be leaving the factory next Saturday, and this is almost certain unless some unforeseen difficulty arises, that the organ—at least the Swell and Great divisions—will be available for the 19th. I had expected to be in Chicago by this time, but there have been several matters which have detained me and again I must go up to New York, but I am still hoping to be in Chicago within the next three or four days.

It is indeed a considerable effort to get that organ completed in the short time: I gave it preference and hence the reason why the organ will be available as promised. I do not think that there is any other part of the world that an organ of that size could be handled on such short notice: however, nothing has been spared to make it one of the finest organs that ever left the factory.

On the tonal side of the instrument, you are going to find a very much more aggressive organ tonally than the one in your church: we have all the Great work unenclosed and the Mixtures—flu [sic] work a very sweet agressive⁶ tone, likewise with the reeds. However, I am sure after you have used the instrument a little while it will appeal to you much better than the late, Heavy Phonon Diapason type of organ.

Mr. John Buterbaugh will, I expect, have arrived in Chicago by this time. He has installed many of the larger Möller organs and in my opinion is one of the most capable organ builders we have at the present time. Mr. Buterbaugh will be in complete charge of the installation, and you will find him very tactful, diplomatic, and ready to co-operate in every way. In any case, I expect to be around myself for two or three days prior to the 19th, so will be seeing you.

 

M. P. Möller, Jr. writes December 14, 1935 to R. O. Whitelegg, in care of the Chicago office⁷:

 

In reference to your telephone call from New York this morning, I was very surprised that you were still in New York as I thought the New York work was to simply be the conference with DeTar on Wednesday and that you would be in Chicago on Thursday. I haven’t had a report as to what progress they are making, but as the organ must be playing by the 19th, or just what the schedule is. I really had not been worrying about it, as I presumed you were there and were taking care of all details.  

The third load is going today, containing the Choir and Solo organs and I presume practically everything except some parts of the case.

 

Whitelegg responds, in a report to
M. P. Möller dated December 16, 1935:

 

The plans there are to have the Great and Swell divisions playing on the 19th, which is all I promised at the time of signing the contract. 

I plan to give three or four days to the St. John of God organ, and also set up the tonal values of whatever is playing at the High School, and then return to the factory, possibly the end of this week.  

Yours truly, 

R. O. Whitelegg

 

P.S. Since the above was dictated, I’ve been over to Carl Schurz School. The work is progressing satisfactorily, Mr. Wetzel stated that he is ordering the balance of the contract tomorrow, and he is also asking for the list of suggestions on the other prepared for pipes, which I am sending to him from this office.⁸

 

Whitelegg writes then to M. P. Möller on December 20, 1935:

 

Dear Sir: Regarding Carl Schurz High School, the organ was available for use last night as planned, and is truly remarkable. In Mr. Wetzel’s own words, he expected a fine organ, but it has exceeded anything that he hoped to have.

E. O. Shulenberger writes to Calvin Brown, 4539 North Richmond Street on December 23, 1935:

 

I understand that the boys got the organ playing at the time wanted and can not do any more now until after the Holiday Season. I hope everything has come through satisfactory [sic] to every one.

We find a memo from the Hagerstown Möller factory to the offices in Chicago dated December 31, 1935:

 

The last load of the Carl Schurz High School organ will arrive at the High School on Monday morning, January 6.

Richard O. Whitelegg writes to J. B. Buterbaugh on January 17, 1936: 

 

Please let me have a report as to the progress of the Carl Schurz High School, in order that I can plan my future movements. I will be busy in the factory until the 25th, and plan to spend a few days at the completion of the organ you are installing.

Because it was a strict union house, and because of the heavy use of the auditorium during the day, we find sent to the attention of Mr. Whitelegg from Buterbaugh the following: “I am starting to do regulation this evening as we must work nights from now on.”

The prepared-for stops, the Vox Humana, Chimes, and Trombone 16′ & 8′ were called for by Calvin Brown on January 22, 1936 for the sum of $1,330.00.

The Vox Humana stopknob was ordered from H. W. Cramer by M. P. Möller, Jr., January 31, 1936.

The weekly installation report to the factory dated February 1, 1936 and signed by John Buterbaugh states: “Chimes installed. Organ tone regulated except Solo,” with a listed probable completion date of organ as February 12.

The following week’s installation report, dated February 8, 1936 states:

 

Solo and Choir finished, some regulation and final tuning of Great and Swell.  Probable completion date of organ is February 13th and dedication planned in about a month. Signed John Buterbaugh.

C. W. Nowell⁹ provides a report of All Electric Consoles (no pneumatics in consoles) built by Möller; a copy of this is in the file and is reproduced here. It may be surprising to some that Möller produced these in this period. Note the exceptional number of magnets in the Schurz console and the unique report configuration of that entry. (See chart.)

John Buterbaugh, who oversaw the installation of the instrument, writes from the Hotel Milshire on February 18, 1936:

 

The organ in the High School is entirely finished and is an exceptionally fine job according to all who have heard it. I have gone over it with M. Wetzel and he says it is beyond his expectations.

Calvin Brown writes to E. O. Shulenberger on February 28, 1936 and states: 

 

I am very much pleased with the job and your boys did an excellent job and I hope to have some more for your firm shortly.

 

G. N. Snyder, writing from the Chicago office of M. P. Möller to Richard O. Whitelegg March 13, 1936 reports: 

 

Mr. Buterbaugh and I drove out to the Schurz High School yesterday, and had the pleasure of meeting with Mr. LeRoy Wetzel. This is a case where the folks are most over-joyed with the organ and all those who had anything to do with its installation, etc. I have heard no man speak more highly of anything than he. He incidentally mentioned that Dr. Barnes had visited him a day previous, and that Dr. Barnes was most enthusiastic about the organ, making the statement that it sounded like a fifty thousand ($50,000.00) dollar organ.

 

Warfield Webb¹⁰ writes to Möller on April 20, 1936 and says: 

 

Understand you recently installed a large and expensive organ in the Carl Schurz High School, Chicago. As a writer for many, many kinds of publications, wonder if anything in the nature of a story about this organ has appeared in a music or school publication. . . Understand this organ is one out of the ordinary found in a school. Perhaps you may be able to give me some interesting data.

 

E. O. Shulenberger, Secretary and Sales Manager, responds on May 1, 1936:

 

The organ there is very much out of the ordinary as found in schools and has attracted an unusual amount of attention, so it should make a very good story. I am sure that Mr. Leroy Wetzel, head of the music department of that school, would be glad to assist you in getting any or all information, and Dr. William H. Barnes, the organ architect, South Wabash Avenue, has also made a lot of study on it. He has written an article to be published in the American Organist on the particular organ, but as this publication has not yet come out, I have not seen the copy.

 

Whitelegg writes to “Mike” Buterbaugh August 13, 1936:

 

I hope to be able to see and hear this organ after visiting Kalamazoo when that organ is completed.

 

L. B. (“Mike”) Buterbaugh, writing from the Chicago office, Suite 1742 McCormick Building, 322 South Michigan on October 12, 1936, reports, “The organ itself is in very fine shape.”

There is a great deal more in the file; however, this array of documents gives us a glimpse of what it took to get a large instrument in quickly. This also hints to the truth that all large instruments take a great deal of negotiation, in all aspects of construction and design, to fabricate and install. Opus 6373 is a monumental organ and completely intact. You are cordially invited to hear it live at the Chicago national convention of the Organ Historical Society this summer!

 

Listen to Dennis Northway play the Schurz Victory March on Möller Opus 6373 at: www.TheDiapason.com.

Oswald Ragatz

Oswald G. Ragatz served as professor of organ and chairman of the organ department at the School of Music at Indiana University from 1942–1983. Sadly, Mrs. Ragatz passed away after a long illness in 1998. When the Positive division was added to the organ at First Christian Church, where Mary so lovingly played for so many years, the Reuter organ was dedicated in her memory. Dr. Ragatz can be reached by contacting him at Meadowood Retirement Center in Bloomington, Indiana. David K. Lamb is currently the organist/choir director at First United Methodist Church in Columbus, Indiana. Graduating from IU in 1983, the year Ragatz retired, he completed the Doctor of Music degree at Indiana University in 2000. Dr. Lamb was recently appointed the District Convener for the State of Indiana by the American Guild of Organists.

 

Introduction by David K. Lamb

For more than 40 years, Oswald Gleason Ragatz served as chairman of the Organ Department of the Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University. On October 30, 2007, “Ozzie” celebrated his 90th birthday. Witnessing many changes through those years at Indiana University, Dr. Ragatz has also seen many changes in the organ world and in church music practices in the years since his retirement from IU in 1983.

I recently enjoyed the chance to visit with Dr. Ragatz in his home at Meadowood in Bloomington. Full of stories and anecdotes, as always, he was ready to recount his years at IU in full detail. What a joy it was listening to those reflections as Dr. Ragatz revisited the events in his early life that led him to his 40-year teaching position at Indiana University. 

“Guardian Angel” is a wonderful exposé by Dr. Ragatz, detailing the sequence of events that made up the path leading him to Indiana University in 1942. In the words of Oswald Ragatz, please prepare to travel with him on this journey to Indiana University.

•

 

During my 25-year employment as organist-choirmaster in Presbyterian churches, I never heard the term predestination mentioned from the pulpit. But I understand that belief in predestination is one of the tenets of the Presbyterian faith. My Unitarian and agnostic friends shake their heads in patronizing dismay, when, instead of attributing some event to predestination or to sheer luck, I refer to my “Guardian Angel.” Probably influenced by all those charming angels in Renaissance paintings and those lovely little winged cherubs in the rococo churches in Europe, I personally would rather attribute the chain of events that greatly determined my life to an angel than to luck or to predestination. Luck never did me any good in those very brief encounters with the slots in the casinos in Las Vegas, and of course no serious angel would look after anyone foolish enough to wager hard-earned cash on those automated bandits. And I’m not a Presbyterian. But let me recount those events that directed my life, and the reader or listener can decide, Guardian Angel, Lady Luck, predestination, or whatever.

I guess I must start way back in the midst of the Great Depression and the Democratic landslide of 1932 that brought Franklin Roosevelt into the presidency, and that cleaned out all of the Republican county office holders in Logan County, Colorado, including my dad. The ensuing years found the Ragatz family trying to make a meager living from a small, 40-acre farm at the edge of my hometown, Sterling, Colorado. Farm labor, dust storms, locust plagues, and fundamentalist, straight-laced parents contributed nothing to the wished-for joie de vivre of high school student Oswald Ragatz. It must have been about then that Guardian Angel was assigned to look out for this puny kid, whose interests were music and architecture, thus contributing to the general scorn of his macho classmates.

 

High school days

The angel first appeared in the guise of a high school math teacher, Miss Smith. It was she who set me on the path that would lead to my escape from the dead-end existence of life on the dreary eastern plains of Colorado. It was Miss Smith who asked me to stay after algebra class so that she could talk to me, as she had some very exciting information to impart. My grade average was one-half point above that of one Verda Guenzi, and Verda and I had the highest grade average of our class. I probably should at this point give credit to the newly hired empathetic gym teacher, who had taken me in hand and had introduced me to gymnastics. This had had a marvelous effect on me. I was no longer the class wimp with C and D grades in gym. I now got an A in gym, which got me that one-half grade point above Verda Guenzi. (Was possibly Mr. Durfee the gym instructor an assistant Guardian Angel? Whatever.)

At any rate, Miss Smith pointed out that the University of Denver gave a four-year, full-tuition scholarship to the graduating senior valedictorian in the six largest high schools in the state. If I maintained a straight A average for the remaining years in Sterling High School, I would be able to go to college at the prestigious university in Denver, a city where there could also be numerous musical opportunities. That put on hold my interest in architecture; the nearest school offering architecture was Kansas U., which of course was out of the question. And anyway, no one was employing architects during the Depression.

My parents were elated by this news, and my mother, who was your basic taskmistress, went into a full cry. For the next two and half years, I became no longer the class wimp but now the class grind, the resident ant being held in some awe by the grasshoppers, my classmates. Verda Guenzi didn’t have a chance, poor girl.

 

Off to the University of Denver

Now things were getting under way in this chain of events. My dad’s brother lived in Denver and was married to a professional musician, a singer of some note in the city. They suggested that I live with them while attending the University of Denver. Their four sons were grown and out of college. I could pay for my room by accompanying students in my aunt’s studio and eventually accompanying her on singing engagements. There would be other duties—in-house chore boy, chauffeur for Aunt Ruth on occasions, etc.

Sterling, a town of less than 8,000, had a remarkable music program in the schools; the high school band and orchestra perennially won first place in the state competitions. I had begun playing oboe when just out of the sixth grade, and in six years had become quite proficient. In 1938 a symphony orchestra was formed in Sterling to accommodate the sizable number of graduates of the school’s music program who still lived in town and who wanted an outlet for their talent. Though still in high school, I was playing oboe in this symphony that had been organized during my senior year. 

Guest conductors were brought in for the three concerts that we played. The most important of these guests was Horace Tureman, director of the Denver Symphony. I don’t remember what we played, but there must have been an important oboe part. At any rate, when I enrolled in music theory the first semester at the university, who should be the teacher but Horace Tureman! And wonder of wonders, he recognized me. After class, he asked to talk to me, saying that he remembered me from the orchestra concert he had conducted in Sterling, and would I like to fill the opening in the Denver Civic Symphony for the second chair oboe? The pay was not great, but it enabled me to pay my uncle for my board. Did my Guardian Angel arrange for all this? But I continue.

I had played piano since I was six years old, my mother being a piano teacher. And I had my first organ lessons the summer after the eighth grade, and became the organist at the Methodist church that fall. During my last year in high school, my parents managed to scrape up enough cash to enable me to drive the 140 miles up to Denver once a month for oboe lessons and organ lessons with the organist-choirmaster of St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral. Now, living in Denver, I hoped to be able to continue organ lessons, although payment for same would be a problem. But not to worry, said my teacher. There was an opening for an organist at Broadway Baptist Church. He told me to try out for the job; I did and got the job. Those four years of playing for First Methodist in Sterling for little more than a Christmas remuneration had prepared me for the paying job in Denver.

So now I had enough monthly income to pay for organ lessons, textbooks, and music. I had been pretty burned out by the tension of making straight A’s during high school, so now I had decided to slack off a bit in college. However, shortly after the first semester had begun, I received a nice letter from the University Chancellor congratulating me on having won the scholarship and indicating that academic excellence would be expected of me. Furthermore, he indicated that since scholarship students were expected to give some services to the university, and in view of my experience as an organist, I would be expected to play the organ for university functions as needed—before lecture in the chapel, for example. 

This was OK by me. It gave me unlimited access to the chapel organ for practice and resulted in my being asked by the Dean of Women to furnish background music on the Hammond electric organ in the posh Renaissance room in the library where teas were the style in those days. For each of these events I was paid $3 and engendered a high profile among the female elite of the student body who were wanting to go to the teas—the girls of the Pan Hellenic Society, the Associated Women’s Students, etc.

So my fingers (on the ivories) were doing the walking—well, the earning, and my parents did not have to fork over that first dollar for my undergraduate training, just an occasional dressed chicken sent by my mother to Aunt Ruth, but that was it. I felt that I was independent, I was living in a sophisticated environment at my uncle’s, and I no longer felt inhibited by my strict parents’ restrictions—and I had a ball! I was pretty naïve and thoughtless though; things had worked out so well for me, so why worry about the future? Incidentally, I did graduate eighth from the top in my class, due to the chancellor’s veiled admonitions four years earlier. But I must continue.

 

Clarence who?

I am not quite finished with undergraduate years. The next vignette may seem inconsequential, but keep in mind, it turned out to be very significant. The setting: a picnic in the mountains. Who was there? I don’t remember, just a bunch of college students. What? I was sitting on a big rock eating a hot dog when a blonde girl I didn’t know joined me and initiated conversation. She was quite hep, and shortly had me telling her about my interest in organ playing. At that point, she became very excited and said that I must meet her uncle from New York, Clarence Dickinson, who would be in Denver in a couple of weeks. Her enthusiasm caused me to think that Uncle must be a man of some importance. And indeed the name was familiar to me: Dickinson was the author of the organ method text given to me by my cousin, my first organ teacher, that summer after my eighth grade. 

I was only mildly impressed, however, but I did mention this information to my organ teacher at my next lesson. Well, his reaction let me know that Clarence Dickinson was indeed a person of importance, being the head of the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary in New York City. So, a week later, I was playing two of my biggest pieces at St. John’s Cathedral for Dr. Dickinson, my teacher having somehow made contact with him in Denver. Tall, dignified, with white hair and mustache, Dr. Dickinson was cordial, and, I thought, politely complimentary. But I was still only mildly interested; I was probably preoccupied thinking about the impending fall Pan Hellenic formal. By the way, I never encountered the blonde niece on campus again. Was she my Guardian Angel in disguise? If so, she must have been pretty bored by my lackadaisical lack of enthusiasm. But guardian angels must be patient, and fortunately Guardian Angel didn’t forsake me, as will soon become evident. She just became a bit more devious. So I continue.

 

Aunt Ruth: gateway to Eastman

I have mentioned my Aunt Ruth previously. There is no doubt that she was my mentor if indeed not my Guardian Angel. She introduced me to the facets of the professional musical world, and she and Uncle Arthur took considerable pains to civilize their shy and unhep nephew from Sterling. By my senior year, Aunt Ruth had sensed my lack of a clear picture of what I was going to do the next year after graduation. My Bachelor’s degree in Social Sciences had presumably prepared me for getting a job in some small-town high school teaching history or social studies. But it was obvious that my interest and talents lay elsewhere—in music, of course. 

Aunt Ruth had a former voice student who had gone to the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New York, and had high praise for the school. It sort of became understood during my senior year that I should go to graduate school the year after graduation from Denver. So I applied to Eastman and was accepted. However, I don’t remember now that I was particularly concerned about the financial requirements this expensive school would entail. I guess that I naïvely assumed that it would work out some way. It always had, hadn’t it? Of course, if there were sounds of fluttering angel wings, I didn’t notice.

I taught some organ students during the summer and played oboe in the Sterling summer band. So I had a little money in my pocket when I started out for New York with my two friends in the model A Ford. We traveled economy class, camping out, cooking our own food, and cheating on entrance fees at places like Mount Vernon. After two weeks of travel and visiting the 1939 World’s Fair in New York, we arrived in Rochester. The semester had not yet started, but I went into the Eastman office to see what a student did about housing. There was no men’s dormitory, but I was given a sizeable list of rooming houses near the school that catered to Eastman students. The person I talked to about this looked at a register of entering students (probably to see if I were indeed a legitimate entrant), and seeing that I was to be an organ student she immediately told me that an organ job was open and would I like to try out for it? 

And OK, yes, a lady had called for an organ student to come to her home and play her pipe organ during tea that she was hosting. It was intimidating that in view of the address this would undoubtedly be in one of the mansions out on East Avenue where the old elite of Rochester held forth. Well, I had brought with me my “tea time” music, thanks to those $3 gigs I’d played for at the University of Denver—I’d “been there, done that.” This gig was indeed in a mansion on East Avenue and was on an Aeolian pipe organ, the instrument of choice in those days for those who could afford such a pipe organ in their home. And needless to say, the pay was considerably more than $3. And, when I had my audition at Emanuel Lutheran Church, I got that job. So I had money to pay for my room and board—board by eating on $1 a day at a cafeteria across the street from the school.

Did Guardian Angel arrange it that I got to Eastman several days before the other students arrived, so I had no competition for these jobs and the opportunities to make some money?

By this time things had improved for my parents. Sterling was having a modest oil boom, and new houses were being built. Three blocks of our farm abutted on a subdivision, and it became possible to sell some of our property for city lots. I felt able to ask for tuition money, since I’d cost my parents nothing for my undergraduate education.

 

Life at Eastman

I found life at Eastman a far cry from my Denver experience. As an undergraduate in Denver, I had played an organ concerto with the Denver Junior Symphony, the Grieg piano concerto with the University Orchestra, and the organ part to the Saint-Saëns Organ Symphony with the Denver Civic Symphony. Big deals!!! Big toad in what I now found out had been a fairly little puddle. My uncle, who was somewhat of a VIP in some circles in the city, reported stiffly one evening at dinner that when he had that day been introduced to someone, he was asked, “By any chance are you related to Oswald Ragatz that young organist?” May I say, that that “made my day.” Country nephew, indeed!

But things now were different in Rochester. I was just a new student in one of the top professional music schools in the country. And believe me, there is no place more competitive than a big music school. Nearly all of my fellow graduate students had undergraduate degrees in music, many from Eastman itself. During my time at Eastman I learned discipline, humility, and respect for what the music profession really was like.

My Guardian Angel was no doubt cheering a bit seeing her/his protégé getting his comeuppance. But I was not being crossed off the list that year. Oh no! So I must continue this saga.

About the Lutheran church: it had an organ the likes of which I had not encountered. At that point, the organ world in the United States was just beginning to become aware of a renaissance in organ tonal design that had begun in the middle of the 20th century. The new instruments that were being built by many European builders and by a few avant garde builders in the United States were referred to as Baroque organs because the builders were attempting to design their organs on the tonal principles of the great old European organs of the 17th and 18th centuries. The organ at my church was a newly built instrument by the Walter Holtkamp Company, one of the first of these avant garde American builders. After a year with this organ at Emanuel Lutheran, I understood how to use it. This experience became very valuable for me, as will be noted later on.

The choir director at church was a talented young man who was the choral person in one of the big Rochester high schools, and his church choir was made up almost entirely of high-school age singers. I was getting some very good experience in choral techniques by observing how Ernie Ahern worked with the choir. I had had no training in choral work up to this point. The second year in Rochester, I actually did some private coaching with Mr. Ahern, and what I learned became the basis of my career as choirmaster through all my life.

One other facet of the Rochester experience must now be mentioned to make clear how the chain of events developed. If one link in the chain had not been there, there would have been no chain. When I obtained the list of rooming houses suitable for an Eastman student, my choice was purely arbitrary (or was Guardian Angel getting into the act again?). The first place I investigated was a big, old, three-story Victorian home, housing a dozen or so men, half of whom were students, the others single professional men. The maiden lady that ran the establishment had a nice vacant room (due, I presume, to the fact that I had gotten there before other students had arrived in the city). It was a congenial bunch of fellows, who all seemed to be on a tight budget, so we frequently ate supper en masse (I could hardly honor the meal as dinner) at the aforementioned cafeteria. 

 

Wilson College

One of the students, a fine violinist, and I became very good friends. It turned out that John’s father was the head of the music department of Wilson College, an undergraduate woman’s college in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. When John came back from Christmas holidays, he told me that the organ teacher at Wilson College was going on sabbatical the second semester the next year, and his father, Prof. Golz, thought I might want the job as substitute for a semester. Of course I was most interested, and as a matter of fact I went down to Chambersburg with John during spring break to be interviewed. I played for Prof. Golz, and he seemed pleased and offered me the job. A real teaching job with a salary—$850 for the semester as I remember it! But that was 1940, and remember, I was eating on a dollar a day, so that seemed like a gold mine. I was just beginning to cope with the competitive stress of Eastman and the demanding teaching of Harold Gleason, my organ professor, so I was very glad to stay on at Eastman for the summer and fall semesters, which enabled me to get a second major, namely in music theory. Then in January of 1941, I arrived at Wilson College, with its faculty comprising chiefly elderly ladies. Now that was an interesting experience for a 23-year-old kid hardly dry behind the ears. It could furnish material for another different document, but that would have no relevance in this tale, except for two non-Wilson people with whom I made friends.

There was a young lawyer in Chambersburg who was very interested in music, and since there were not many opportunities for social contacts with people in their twenties, he immediately contacted me, and we became lifelong friends. He lived with his mother in Chambersburg, and they were frequently visited by his sister Selma, a music teacher in Baltimore and a graduate of N.Y.U. Selma was about my age, and we became good friends also—we dated in fact.

The semester at Wilson College was all too short, and I was having to face a very uncertain future. World War II was in full cry, and I had registered for the draft while in Rochester. So that dark cloud was hovering over my head. But I had had no word from Uncle Sam, so in the meantime I had to hunt for a job. I registered membership with a teacher’s placement agency in Chicago—Clark Brewer. And in May I went to New York to interview with a couple of agencies there. But they wouldn’t even take my registration. Colleges were retrenching because of the war and were hiring no new faculty. 

That was a very low moment in my life. For the first time I was faced with having no idea what to do next. I was suddenly out in the big world. I started walking aimlessly up town on Fifth Avenue, my mind swirling. I may even have contemplated how near the Hudson River was and how long would it take one to drown oneself. But maybe I wasn’t that far down or that stupid. At any rate, by the time I’d walked from the ’40s where the agencies’ offices were and reached 59th Street and the beginning of Central Park, my befuddled mind began to remember that Selma, who of course had lived in New York City while attending N.Y.U., had at some point asked me why didn’t I look into Union Theological Seminary. That had seemed like a dumb statement. A seminary? I didn’t want to be a preacher! Far from it!

 

Oh, that Clarence

But now my tiny memory began to function, and by the time I got up to the Metropolitan Museum, I thought of the blonde at that picnic in the mountains years ago, and her uncle, Clarence Dickinson, who was the head of the School of Sacred Music at—yes—Union Seminary in New York City. With a quick visit to a phone booth, where wonder of wonders there was a phone directory, I determined that Union Seminary was at 120th Street and Broadway. The next 50 or so blocks were covered with considerable resolution, and crossing over west to Broadway, past the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and Columbia University, I found the Gothic towers of Union Seminary and its quadrangle, which occupied two city blocks. 

Hot, tired, still dispirited and thinking that this was totally mad, I entered the main entrance and located the offices of the Music School. When I made it known to the secretary that I might be interested in becoming a student there, things began to move very rapidly. I was ushered into Dr. Dickinson’s office, where I was warmly greeted by Dr. Dickinson and then was introduced to Mrs. Dickinson, who, it developed, actually seemed to manage the business end of the school. The introductions were barely over when Dr. Dickinson said he remembered my playing for him in Denver, and that I had played very well. Where had I been since then? Eastman? Teaching at Wilson College? Interesting. Well, of course they would be delighted to accept me as a student working on the two-year curriculum leading to the Master of Sacred Music degree.

I had no money? No problem! The dormitory had two-room suites for students at $10 a month, and I could work a shift in the refectory for all my meals. And all of their students were placed in churches in Manhattan and in communities around New York City—on Long Island, in Westchester County, in Connecticut or over in New Jersey. Auditions for a job would be set up for me during the next month.

I could hardly believe all this. An hour earlier I was plodding the streets of New York wondering if I should be heading for the Hudson River. And had I listened, I might have heard Guardian Angel wildly flapping wings and snarling, “Oh ye of little faith, you silly twit. Why do you think I had that blonde girl join you on that rock that afternoon in the Rocky Mountains? And all of that other stuff we went through to get you this far!” Of course I wasn’t listening, but I do hope that I had the good grace to think that too many good coincidences were beginning to occur. My parents once had told me that the German name Oswald meant “Chosen of God.” What’s in a name? Maybe I should have paused to think. But of course, pausing and thinking were two things I’d not yet learned to do.

So I was set for two more years, Uncle Sam willing. I went back to Rochester for the summer to finish my master’s thesis. I had enough money saved up from that great salary at Wilson College to pay for a room at the Y, eat at the cheap cafeteria, and pay train fare to New York City twice for auditions.

The second audition was at Hitchcock Memorial Presbyterian Church in Scarsdale, a posh suburb in Westchester County. As it turned out, this was one of the prime jobs the Union students had. I would be replacing Robert Baker, a doctoral candidate at Union, who had just been hired at First Presbyterian in Brooklyn, a real, full-time professional position. I felt the audition went well, but nothing definite was said at the conclusion of my playing and answering questions. I would have a junior choir, a choir of twelve high school girls, and a professional quartet—VERY professional. The soprano had just sung a solo recital at Town Hall and the contralto was singing at the Metropolitan Opera a couple of years later, and several years later I read a rave review of her Carmen sung in Vienna. 

This would not be the first time I was faced with a task for which I was not really prepared. But I will say, without professing any modesty, that I never ducked. I learned how to conduct from the console by doing it—not that that quartet needed as much conducting as I thought I should be doing. At the end of the interview the chairwoman, an elegant middle-aged lady, said she would like to take me to dinner at the Scarsdale Country Club. That didn’t scare me: my aunt and uncle had seen to it that I knew how to behave at dinner, hold the chair for the lady, use the flatware from the outside in, etc. I seemed to pass muster with my hostess, since she informed me at the conclusion of the evening that I was hired. Eureka! Not only was the salary quite sufficient to pay for the organ lessons (which were outrageously high even for those times), tuition, and incidental living expenses, but even for a concert and opera now and then and a few heady evenings taking a date dancing to big name bands on the Astor roof.

 

Life in New York City

Guardian Angel now left me for a time as I devoured the life in New York. Our church jobs only required our presence at Sunday morning services, so a number of very compatible friends from Union would rush back to Manhattan by 3 o’clock, meeting at one of the big churches that had afternoon vesper services, oratorios, etc. A typical Sunday afternoon would be St. Bartholomew’s on Park Avenue at 3, where the 60-voice choir sang an oratorio every Sunday with a stunning organist on an enormous triple organ—chancel, rear gallery, and dome, playable from a single console in the chancel. Then over to St. Thomas on Fifth Avenue to hear a fine boy’s choir sing the 5 o’clock vesper Evensong. Then after a quick snack at our favorite bar, Tops, it was to St. Mary the Virgin Church on 46th Street, where the young avant garde organist, Ernest White, presided over a high-church late Evensong service. When I heard Mr. White play, I knew that I would have to study with him someday—which I did one summer after I had been at I.U. for a couple of years. These experiences taught me more than all the courses at the School of Sacred Music about what music could be in an enlightened church—with money. I HAD A BALL, needless to say.

It was the summer after the first year in New York, and I had had a very lucrative June playing for eight or more fashionable Scarsdale weddings. I was set indefinitely at the Scarsdale church and at Union, and after the M.S.M. degree I could continue working on a doctoral degree at Union, as had my friend, Robert Baker. I had dreams of eventually also moving on to some big Manhattan church. But this had to wait for a few decades for one of my students, who now is at the First Presbyterian Church in New York and is a big name there. Guardian Angel had other plans.

 

Hoosier holiday

Mail time was always a time of anxiety. Several of my friends had been drafted, but there was no message from the government for me. BUT, there was a letter from Clark Brewer Teachers’ Agency in Chicago telling me that there was an opening for an organ teacher at Indiana University. INDIANA? That was just a state to quickly get through when one was en route from Colorado to New York (with the exception of that adventure at Spring Mill Park in 1939). But I could get my expenses paid to Bloomington, and—always on the lookout for a deal—I figured I’d go to Indiana and then on to Colorado to visit my parents. I hadn’t been home for two years. I would go by train and stop off in Rochester to take my orals on my master’s thesis. Sneaky. Smart. I wasn’t even remotely interested in a job in Indiana.

So that is what I did, and after a night sitting up on a train from Rochester to Indianapolis, and then a bus to this village in the wilderness, I was even less inclined to take it seriously. After a night in a hot room in the Graham Hotel, I wandered out to the campus, past yellow clay around the old business school and the auditorium, both of which had just been completed. With the help of a kind lady who thought I was a new student (my ears were slow to dry), I found the new music building. First I was interviewed by Dean Sanders, a smooth, formidable, sophisticated young man, and then by the chairman of the theory department. Then I was taken up to a small practice room where the only organ on the campus existed. And guess what? The instrument was a Holtkamp almost identical to the one I’d had in Emanuel Lutheran in Rochester. And of course I knew how to handle it. (Did Guardian Angel snicker smugly?) 

So I played a couple of big pieces, and because I didn’t give a tinker’s cuss about the job, I was cool, probably to the point of being arrogant. Consequently, I greatly impressed the interviewers. It was explained to me that there was one organ major who would be a senior. Her organ teacher, who was also a pianist and taught theory, had been drafted. The organ “department” had been set up two years before when one Mary Christena had come over from the main campus wanting to major in organ. An organ curriculum was hastily fabricated, the Holtkamp was promptly purchased, and now they needed a regular organ teacher to get Miss Christena through her senior recital. 

I would teach any other organ students that might show up when it was learned that there was an organ teacher (there were nine of them), I would teach two sections of freshman music theory (after observing the chairman of the department teach another section of the same class each day), a music appreciation class for the general student body (there were about 70 enrolled, it turned out), and I would conduct the Choral Union, the only choral group on campus. This would result in my conducting in the auditorium a performance of Messiah, with orchestra, just before Christmas. I had never conducted an orchestra, to say nothing of an orchestra with a big chorus of 90 or so singers. But as I said earlier, I was not one to duck. I was new at academia and didn’t know that this teaching load was brutal and now would be considered illegal. It was a job, and I intended to be a success at any cost.

But I wasn’t offered the job on the spot, which was of no concern to me. I wanted to go back to New York. As a matter of fact, I called my parents and suggested that they come east instead of my going on to Colorado. They would meet me in Chambersburg, where I would go to visit Rudy and Selma Wertime. Did I tell Dean Sanders about this? NO, of course not. (Guardian Angel almost gave up on me at this point.) Three days later, my family and I were at the Wertimes in Chambersburg, when I got this irate call from Dean Sanders wanting to hire me. I don’t know how he found me. He probably contacted someone at Union who knew I had a girlfriend in Chambersburg and knew the name. I never asked. Maybe Guardian Angel slipped him a note.

So I was being offered a real job, a permanent job, albeit in the hills of Indiana. Well, I stalled a bit. My parents pushed, Guardian Angel was pushing, I am sure. I thought that surely that draft would get me any day, and a job at Indiana University would look good on my résumé some day, so I gave the dean a reluctant “yes.” The Dickinsons called me a day later suggesting that I postpone the appointment for a year, so I could finish the degree, but that was out of the question since Miss Christena would be awaiting her new teacher in September. So after a week in the city with my parents, I was off to Bloomington, Indiana, for an entirely new life, and as it turned out, a wife.

Mary Christena turned out to be a fine organist, and again I was faced with a situation I wasn’t quite ready for. But I didn’t duck, and she got a performer’s certificate with distinction for her senior recital. It was not until after Mary’s graduation that the student-teacher relationship segued into a more personal one. After a summer of dating, Mary went to New York to Union Seminary on my recommendation. I wanted her to experience the school, and especially the milieu of New York City and the great church music. However, she spent only one semester at Union, terminated by my going to New York to propose at Christmas. And that event can be subject for another paper—shorter than this one, I assure the reader. We were married June 4, 1944. (I never had trouble remembering that date. The assault on Normandy was to take place that week.)

There is one loose end that must be taken care of in closing: THE DRAFT. During my first Christmas vacation at I.U., I had three recitals scheduled in the East—for the American Guild of Organists Chapter of Baltimore, before the New Year’s midnight service at First Baptist Church in Washington, D.C., and in Chambersburg. Of course I had as yet not learned how to cope with the stress of this sort of behavior, and I took sick on the B. & O. train returning from Washington to Indiana. A few days later, my landlords called a doctor, and I was promptly swished off to the hospital in an ambulance with a severe case of pneumonia. (Guardian Angel was taking severe measures!) 

I was very ill, and had not the sulfa drugs just come on the market, I might have died. But after three weeks, I was released, only to go back to my room to find THE letter from Uncle Sam telling me to report for induction in Indianapolis. Why had it taken them so long to find me? I had registered in Rochester, giving my address as Sterling, Colorado, but I found out later that my registration had been sent to Sterling, Pennsylvania, wherever that is.  And when they finally found me, it was discovered that I had registered as a conscious objector—and that is another story—so interviews had to be made with all sorts of people in Colorado to see what sort of a jerk I was. (Was Guardian Angel back of all this? Surely not . . . ) But now I was going through induction in Indianapolis, then, pale, and suspect. The late January quota for draftees was unusually low that month, and after the examining doctors took a good look at me and they took a look at my 1-A-O classification, I was told that I probably wouldn’t do much good for the U.S. Army and to go back to I.U. “and teach them how to sing the Star-Spangled Banner.”  

So that’s how I met my wife. Do I believe in a Guardian Angel? Sometimes I almost think that I do. Maybe everyone has a similar chain of events that direct them through life. They just don’t spill the whole tale in a writer’s club. I leave it up to you, with apologies for being too forthcoming. n

 

What a pleasure it has been to prepare this essay for publication in The Diapason to honor and celebrate the 90th birthday of Dr. Oswald G. Ragatz. This inspirational tale provides a glimpse of the organ and church music scene in New York in the early forties, as well as the documentation of the beginning of the I.U. Organ Department at that same time. When Dr. Ragatz retired in 1983, that organ department that he found in Bloomington in 1942 with the Holtkamp organ in the practice room had grown to a department with a notable historic concert organ in the I.U. Auditorium, two respectable studio organs, and eleven pipe organs in practice rooms for student use. Ragatz built the department to a level where it could take its place along with the other large university organ departments in the United States. Currently, the organ department of the Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University is one of the largest institutions offering degrees in organ in the United States.  

With approximately 400 living IU alumni organists, the former students of Oswald Ragatz can be found all over the U.S. and in several foreign countries. Teaching and playing in both churches and universities, these Indiana University organists carry the Ragatz legacy with them in all of their endeavors. We salute you, Dr. Ragatz. Happy birthday and many happy returns.

—David K. Lamb

 

 

A. David Moore, Inc., 

North Pomfret, Vermont

All Hallows’ Parish, Davidsonville, Maryland

 

From the builder

Designing an organ for All Hallows’ Church involved some unique challenges for its builder. The small brick building dates to 1734, and was gutted by fire in 1940. Rebuilt much as it was (without the Victorian alterations), the original walls and brick floor were retained. It seems that until 2010, the parish never owned a pipe organ.

The decision to place the organ on the left side of the chancel included the requests that the casework be no taller than the altar window, that the instrument be no larger than the sacristy in the opposite corner, and that the case was to “fit” the furnishings of the room. Thus, the back and left sides of the organ are against the walls, and maintenance can be done only through the front and right side of the main case. The detached console and Positiv division are one unit, adjacent to the case front, and facing the choir on the other side of the nave. Three flats of Open Diapason and Principal basses face the congregation, and the side contains two flats of Open Diapason basses, one of which is in a door that can be opened for Great and Pedal tuning. Those offset basses are operated by a remote assisting mechanism in which a small amount of air travels down a 5/16″ diameter tube that feeds a small wedge bellows and valve below each pipe.

The Great is on a C and C# chest, with the smallest pipes in the middle. The Positiv is played from the upper keyboard; the chromatic chest is at floor level; and the pipes are tuned by removing a grille on the top of the case. The manual keys are suspended, with a backfall system that pulls up the Positiv pallets; angled trackers and a rollerboard operate the Great pallets. The Positiv stop knobs are in the console and the Great knobs project from the main case on the organist’s left. The basswood tables of the chests will not split; the sliders are of quarter-sawn maple; the slider seals are of Neoprene; there is no plywood in the organ; the wind pressure is almost two inches; and the temperament is Kirnberger III.

Though the acoustics are quite good and the sound of the organ is focused by a curved ceiling, there is a slight “flutter echo” heard by a listener in the center of the room. The maple case is of wood harvested on the Moore farm in North Pomfret, Vermont, and sawn on location by a Wood-mizer band sawmill. There are no carvings on the case, but some subtle ornamentation appears at the tops of the pipe flats. The cornice of the case was copied from the 18th-century American case in Old North Church, Boston, and the All Hallows’ sacristy cornice was changed to match it.  

In the Great, the metal pipes are 28% tin and 72% lead, with small amounts of copper, antimony, and bismuth; the metal was cast from old organ pipes. The 8′, 4′, 22⁄3′, 2′, and 13⁄5′ ranks are close to Hook pipe scales, and have fairly low cutups and moderate nicking. The Holpipe is a metal chimney flute, and has 12 stopped wood basses; a new Haskell bass serves the Viol; and the Hautboy is an exact copy of a Hook stop. The Positiv Stop’d Diapason is of wood, small in scale but with a good fundamental tone, and is copied from a Geo. S. Hutchings stop; the Flute is of stopped and open wood and has metal trebles; the Fifteenth has 24 Claribel-style open wood basses and metal trebles. The German scales for the Dulcian are a composite, and there are half-length resonators in the lowest octave. The basses have wood blocks and shallots made in one piece, and the dimensions for the shallot openings, bores, tapers, and inside resonator diameters are close to 18th-century North European practice. The use of wood for a shallot avoids the need for lead or leather facings. In terms of hardness, the wood is somewhere between lead or brass and a leathered surface, and the brass tongues are fairly wide and thick. Long tuning wires are labeled on the tops and are easily reached.

The installation of A. D. Moore’s Opus 34 was enjoyable, and there were many trips to Davidsonville for installation, final voicing, and tuning. The crew of builders—A. David Moore, Tom Bowen, John Atwood, and Lubbert Gnodde—stayed with Jan and Mike Power. Mike Menne is the organist at All Hallows’, and collaborated on the organ’s specification. Mr. Gnodde played the dedicatory recital on November 7, 2010, which included works by Alain, Bach, Sweelinck, Scheidemann, Buxtehude, Mendelssohn, Couperin, Langlais, and the “Flower Duet” from Lakmé by Léo Delibes, featuring Sharon Potts and Laurie Hays, sopranos.

—E. A. Boadway and A. David Moore

 

From the organist

All Hallows’ Parish, also known as South River Parish, is one of the original parishes established by Act of the General Assembly of the Province of Maryland in 1692. As a worshiping community, it existed as early as 1650, with its first written record that of the birth of Thomas Chaney on 1 March 1669. The original church building, now lost, was probably of timber construction, and either burned or deteriorated to the extent that a new building, at a new site, was constructed, with the aid of a levy of 20,000 pounds of tobacco, around 1727–1730. The church bell, in a separate wooden tower, bears the inscription “Belonging to St. All Hallows’ Church 1727” and was probably provided by Queen Anne’s Bounty. 

The 1727 building, still in use, is a modest brick, hipped-roof building, just under 30 by 60 feet. There are no records extant that show the original seating plan of the building, but in the 19th century a small balcony was taken down (probably originally for the use of some of the 200 slaves who had been baptized by the second rector), and at least twice remodeled in the Victorian taste of the times, with heavy dark wood furnishings, stained glass, and slip pews.

The church was nearly lost on 11 February 1940 when a disastrous fire broke out about an hour after a service, destroying everything but the brick walls. For the rebuilding, it was decided to return the building to the look and feel of the early 18th century with white walls, white box pews, and clear glass windows. 

There is no record of any pipe organ during the building’s first 280 years, so any description of musical accompaniment before the fire is purely conjectural. After the restoration, a series of electronic instruments was installed in the front of the room. When a new rector arrived in 2000, he hired his friend James Weaver, Curator of the Division of Musical Instruments at the Smithsonian and co-founder of the Smithsonian Chamber Players, to come to the parish and revive a flagging music program and small choir of willing and enthusiastic singers. During his tenure, Weaver established a high level of musical expectation but hesitated to begin a project to replace the dreary electronic. When he left to pursue other projects and I arrived, enthusiasm to begin an organ project was high and the process began.

Early on, it was determined that (1) the organ would have mechanical action, (2) it would be tonally appropriate to the age of the building, (3) it would be visually designed so as not to overwhelm the scale and balance of the architecture, and (4) the primary visual focus at the front of the room would continue to be the triple window behind the altar. The restoration of the early 1940s had created two large closets in the front corners of the building. One was used as a tiny sacristy, the other as storage and placement for the bass speaker cabinets of the organ. It was determined that the organ would be placed where the sacristy had been, and the sacristy moved to the other side. The Altar Guild was quite pleased, as they had improved facilities and more extensive storage. 

A number of organbuilders were consulted, both from the U.S. and abroad, in our search for a builder. Almost every builder proposed an instrument that would be the dominant visual focus in the room. Some of them were tonally based on no more than an 8′ flute. David Moore, recommended by St. Margaret’s Convent in Boston and United Church on the Green, New Haven, was the only one who demonstrated an enthusiasm to work within our constraints.

As the organ and case design progressed, David proposed a novel solution: place the console at right angles to the main case and put the second manual pipes in the console in the manner of a continuo. In that manner, the main case could be lowered to match the sacristy on the other side, maintaining the Georgian balance of the church interior, while providing the tonal resources we needed. It also made it possible for the organist to face the choir directly across the chancel, with excellent sight lines.

The tonal design had three major objectives: (1) to provide leadership for congregational singing, (2) to accompany a wide variety of choral music, and (3) within its modest resources, to play as wide a spectrum of organ music as possible. 

Early in the planning stages, it was determined that the foundation would be an 8′ Principal, with both an 8′ flute and string to provide solid unison tone. A full diapason chorus, including 22⁄3, would be included, but the modest size of the building made the inclusion of a mixture unnecessary. The suggestion of a Hook-style Oboe as the Great reed was inspired! We insisted on a Tierce as well, for both solo color and ensemble brilliance. Having used a continuo for a year and a half before the instrument was installed, a similar tonal scheme of 8′, 4′, and 2′ for the second manual seemed natural. David suggested a Dulcian to round out the resources of that manual, adding significantly to the color possibilities of the instrument.

The organ has proved a tremendous success. Visually, it slips effortlessly into its corner of the building. The three pipe flats of the case front echo the semi-circular arches of the tripartite east window, repeated in pipe flats on the case side. The most oft-repeated comment from parishioners was “It looks like it’s always been there!” It was decided to use the natural darker grey of lead/tin pipe metal in the display pipes rather than shiny tin to minimize visual distraction from the altar. The wood façade pipes of the 8′ flute of the second manual are painted white to match the case. Many people don’t realize they are pipes at all until they see the mouths near the floor! The use of removable slatted grilles at the top of the second manual case allows for both good tonal egress and tuning ease. 

Musically the organ has been a huge success. The modest stoplist of 13 registers, with two reeds, two mutations, and four unison flue ranks lends itself to performing a wide spectrum of music. Though much of the instrument is inspired by 19th-century American organbuilding, early music sounds extremely convincing. Bach sounds very convincing, Sweelinck variations show off varieties of tonal color, the Dulcian can sound like a Renaissance consort when used by itself but becomes a chameleon when combined with one or both of the Positiv flutes. The Hautboy functions as a ‘petit trompette’, smooth in the treble and bolder in the bass. It serves as a very attractive solo stop, but when combined with the principals, becomes bold and assertive. Add the Twelfth and Tierce and it becomes a fiery French Grand Jeu. The solid foundation tone makes the instrument an excellent vehicle for Mendelssohn, and the Viol, both alone and with the Holpipe, provides softer sounds. There is sufficient tonal variety for stirring hymn singing as well as accompaniment of Anglican choral music. 

In addition to a performance by the young Dutchman from David Moore’s shop, Lubbert Gnodde, further recitals in the inaugural series were presented by Mark Brombaugh, Bryan Mock, and myself, with repertoire ranging from late Medieval to William Albright. 

The instrument continues to serve as proof that a real pipe organ is within the realm of possibility for a small parish, and that it can provide more musical satisfaction than an electronic with a plethora of digital gadgets and twice as many stops.

—Michael Menne

 

Cover photo: Sabine Joyce

 

GREAT (I) 56 keys, CCРg3

8′ Open Diapason

8′ Holpipe

8′ Viol

4′ Principal

22⁄3′ Twelfth

2′ Fifteenth

13⁄5′ Tierce

8′ Hautboy

POSITIV (II) 56 keys, CCРg3

8′ Stop’d Diapason

4′ Flute

2′ Fifteenth

8′ Dulcian

PEDAL 30 keys, CCРg3

16′ Bourdon

 

Couplers

I–P

II–P

II–I

Michael Fox

Michael Alan Fox is a retired bookseller and publisher who reviewed organ records for The Absolute Sound for 15 years. Growing up in San Francisco, he fell in love with Aeolian-Skinners while listening to Richard Purvis at Grace Cathedral; and as a disciple of Maurice John Forshaw—Jean Langlais’ first American pupil—he has an unshakable faith in seamless legato. He is organist of All Saints Episcopal Church in Hillsboro, Oregon.

 

The East Texas Pipe Organ Festival took place November 14–17 in and around Kilgore, Texas, and was one of the best organ-related gatherings I have ever attended. This was largely because of two men: Roy Perry, the former organist-choirmaster of the First Presbyterian Church of Kilgore, and Texas representative for Aeolian-Skinner; and Lorenz Maycher, the current Kilgore incumbent, and devoted historian of Aeolian-Skinner, who decided that Perry’s achievements deserved wider recognition.

 

Harrison & Perry

Admirers of the company know that
G. Donald Harrison held Perry’s work—and zany humor—in high esteem, and the Texas instruments that were installed by the Williams family of New Orleans and finished by Perry have a special place in the hierarchy of Aeolian-Skinner organs. (See “The Williams Family of New Orleans: Installing and Maintaining Aeolian-Skinner Organs,” by Lorenz Maycher, The Diapason, May 2006.) Perry’s own organ in Kilgore was featured prominently in the King of Instruments recordings that the company released to promote its organs, and the slightly larger sister organ in Longview was used by Catharine Crozier to make two important recordings of American organ music. If for no other reason, the Kilgore organ would have its place in history as the organ that introduced the chamade trumpet to America, perhaps a cause for sorrowful head-shaking to many.

Fashions changed in the following decades, and many regarded the American Classic ideal as unsatisfactory eclecticism, and it must be said that even before Harrison’s death that approach seemed to be narrowing its scope even as it was narrowing its scales, and some notable instruments came to be deprecated or ignored—or, worse, rebuilt.

Through these decades, some organists continued to maintain that the Roy Perry organs were very special. He figured prominently in Charles Callahan’s histories of Aeolian-Skinner, with letters to and from G. Donald Harrison. Inevitably, tastes changed yet again, and some of the Romantic aspects of Perry’s designs once again could be seen as reflections of a good musical sense rather than deviations from classical ideals. But the piney woods of east Texas are a long way from big musical centers, and mostly the instruments sat ignored by the larger world. One of them had even fallen on hard times, and due to changing worship styles was sitting unused.

I was enough of a dedicated admirer of G. Donald Harrison organs that I had occasional retirement fantasies about jumping in the car and heading on a long diagonal trek from the Douglas firs of the Northwest to the loblolly pines of Texas and actually hearing those two organs. For one reason or another, the fantasy trek never happened; and so when I read the announcement of this East Texas Pipe Organ Festival I signed up immediately. It ran from a Monday evening opening concert through Thursday evening, three non-stop days and nights.

The festival was essentially on the scale of an unusually good AGO regional, but it really was the work of one man with whatever support he may have asked for and received from others; those are details of which I know nothing. But however Lorenz Maycher made it happen, the organization was impressive. There were 50 or 60 attendees, a comfortable and convenient headquarters hotel, a
giant bus, catered meals that were never less than good and in the case of a gumbo dinner, just terrific, organs that had been freshly tuned (and because of some odd swings in the weather, even retuned), hospitable churches, and first-rate recitalists. For arranging this tribute to Roy Perry, Lorenz Maycher undoubtedly earned himself a place in the ongoing Aeolian-Skinner saga.

 

Opening concert

The opening concert was at First Presbyterian in Kilgore, and the program repeated the content of Roy Perry’s original recording, “Music of the Church,” Volume Ten in the King of Instruments series. A choir of some 30 voices was conducted by Frances Anderson, who as an Austin College student had sung on the original record. After the appropriate opening hymn (Engelberg), the choir, accompanied by Robert Brewer, sang Parry’s I Was Glad, Ireland’s Greater Love Hath No Man, and Vaughan Williams’s setting of Old Hundredth. Practical considerations led to the substitution of Elgar’s The Spirit of the Lord Is upon Me for David McK. Williams’s In the Year That King Uzziah Died, and following the congregational singing of St. Clement, Lorenz Maycher played Bruce Simonds’s Iam sol recedit igneus, the only organ solo on the original record. 

The concert set the tone for the festival perfectly. First Presbyterian is not a huge church—I’d guess that it seats around 300—and even though seat cushions had been removed, it is not a particularly live room. It is not a hostile building: music is clear and well balanced there, but it gets very little enhancement, so the organ’s glory is of its own making. It didn’t take long for that glory to be evident, as Robert Brewer accompanied the choir superbly. The Parry was tremendously exciting, even without the “Vivats”, and that first Trompette-en-chamade is still one of the very best examples, a well-nigh perfect balance of brilliance and body, just loud enough to dominate.

As I heard throughout that concert, and in the succeeding events in that church, Roy Perry’s own organ, Aeolian-Skinner opus 1173, embodies that kind of musical balance in any number of voices. Uniquely, I think, among instruments carrying the G. Donald Harrison signature plate, it is only “rebuilt” by Harrison, since it started life as a Möller, and much of the structure and even pipework (including the notable French Horn) remains from its origin. This perhaps makes Roy Perry’s achievement as a tonal finisher even more notable, because this instrument of 69 ranks is versatile and elegant beyond description. Other Harrisons that I have heard and loved—Grace Cathedral, Church of the Advent, St. John the Divine, etc.—owe something of their effect to their glorious buildings. Kilgore does it all on its own, and I left the concert convinced that I had just heard one of the world’s truly great organs.

 

Tuesday, November 15

The following day offered more opportunities to hear just how versatile the Kilgore organ is, as Maycher, former organist Jimmy Culp (who two days later was honored by the grateful church as its Organist Emeritus), and Casey Cantwell played organ works particularly associated with Opus 1173: Dreams, by Hugh McAmis; Christos Patterakis, by Roy Perry; A Solemn Melody, by Walford Davies; Nun komm der Heiden Heiland, by Bach; Introduction, Passacaglia and Fugue, by Healey Willan; Alleluia, by Charles Callahan; Songs of Faith and Penitence, and Requiescat in Pace, by Leo Sowerby; and The Way to Emmaus, by Jaromir Weinberger.

There were also reminiscences of Roy Perry, as there were later in the week; by my reckoning he would have emerged as the undisputed champion in an all-time contest of Readers’ Digest Most Unforgettable Characters. Attendees learned that his lovely Christos Patterakis was named not for some obscure Orthodox melody, but for an obscure name he saw on a local election campaign poster in California; his irreverence and impishness were as fully developed as his ear for proper pipe speech. For me the highlight among all this music-making was the performance of Weinberger’s solo cantata The Way to Emmaus for soprano and organ. Anneliese von Goerken did a lovely job on the demanding vocal part (it concludes on a pianissimo high A after 22 pages of very chromatic writing); Maycher showed off opus 1173 as no less spectacular an accompanying instrument. 

The Weinberger cantata for years was a tradition on Easter afternoon at Riverside Church, and I have retained a vivid memory of hearing Louise Natale and Fred Swann perform it in the late 1970s. The Kilgore organ was easily the equal of the Riverside giant in providing all of the color required. (I missed only the few Chimes strikes that Swann added; Maycher was faithful to Weinberger’s score.) Part of the magic and the versatility comes from the enclosure of most of the Great, which is both a Great (a splendid Principal chorus, with three mixtures including one that caps full organ in much the same way as the famous
Terzzymbel at Washington Cathedral) and a Solo, with an English Horn and a French Horn to go with an eloquent Flute Harmonique. With some very imaginative thinking, Roy Perry transcended the limits of the usual three-manual instrument and enabled it to be a giant in flexibility.

Later in the afternoon, Casey Cantwell demonstrated another approach Roy Perry took: at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church in Kilgore, opus 1175, he designed a very substantial instrument in a smallish room, but laid it out on two very complete manuals rather than the expected three. The Great, again partially enclosed, is almost enormous at 18 ranks; and the Swell has a chamade Trompette in addition to the usual reed chorus. In a dead room it seems like a recipe for disaster, but Casey Cantwell, moving on from having played the Willan Introduction, Passacaglia and Fugue on Opus 1173 in the morning, demonstrated that Perry knew what he was doing. It played the Bach Prelude and Fugue in E-flat well enough for these ears, and did a thrilling job with the John Cook Fanfare. The program also included Harold Darke’s Meditation on “Brother James’s Air,” Two Meditations on “Herzliebster Jesu” by Mark Jones, and Bach’s Adagio Cantabile arranged by Roy Perry. Cantwell improvised on some hymns, giving the attendees a chance to sing along as the themes were presented, and it was a model church organ in supporting congregational singing. And my fears at seeing those trumpets aimed at us were unfounded; they, and the organ, were just right. In an ideal world you might hope for a livelier room, but working in the real world Perry delivered a very satisfying and completely musical organ.

In the evening, Brett Valliant demonstrated further capabilities of Opus 1173 by using it to accompany a Harold Lloyd film, but I can’t comment on whether that worked or not, since I decided to save my energy for the late night cash bar, where more Roy Perry stories abounded. There sure are some great storytellers in Texas.

 

Wednesday, November 16

The following day the giant bus made the 70-mile trip east to Shreveport, where the group enjoyed the hospitality of the historic Shreveport Scottish Rite Temple, having lunch and dinner in a distinguished dining room. Upstairs in the 500-seat auditorium we heard Charles Callahan demonstrate the sounds of the 1917–1921 four-manual Pilcher, some voices of which weren’t available. Like all such fraternal orders, it faces an aging and declining membership; the preservation of their remarkable buildings, which are usually among the notable structures in every city where they are found, should be yet another cause to which organists might rally.

The major attraction in Shreveport was St. Mark’s Cathedral, Roy Perry’s largest installation. It was designed by G. Donald Harrison in conjunction with Perry and William Teague, then fresh out of the Curtis Institute and embarking on a long career at the cathedral, but it was not built until the Whiteford years. The festival’s visit to the cathedral was preceded by a session of further reminiscences of Perry at St. Mark’s former building, now the Church of the Holy Cross, where a 1920 E. M. Skinner was rebuilt by Aeolian-Skinner in 1949. William Teague—“Uncle Billy” to Roy Perry, and I suppose now about 90 (see “William Teague awarded Doctor of Fine Arts degree by Centenary College,” The Diapason, October 2011, p. 10)—was the star of the show, with a flood of stories that illustrated both Perry’s care for music, as when he sent pipes from the Kilgore strings back to Boston so that the scales could be duplicated for Teague’s organ then in the shop, and his wild sense of humor.

The St. Mark’s organ sounded particularly lovely in Charles Callahan’s prelude to the Evensong service, an atmospheric improvisation that hung in the air like wisps of incense. Following Evensong, Robert McCormick played a recital that started with a particularly colorful performance of the Elgar Sonata, and included three improvisations by Pierre Cochereau, reconstructed by Jeanne Joulain; McNeil Robinson’s Prelude on Llanfair, and Larry King’s Fanfares to the Tongues of Fire; the program ended with an improvisation on submitted themes. The cathedral has a generous acoustic, and the organ sounds like a vintage Perry right up to the point that the big reeds come on. I may be in a minority, but the Solo Major Trumpet unit was the first less-than-beautiful reed I had heard, and the Trompette-en-chamade in the Gallery ranks with that thing at the back of Riverside Church as the ugliest specimen I’ve experienced, and although I wasn’t carrying an SPL meter to be exact about it, I think it was brighter and nastier. I’ll bet Roy Perry would have agreed with me. But the unpleasantness was washed away later back at the hotel by an excellent martini—“Mother’s Milk” in Perry-speak. 

Thursday, November 17

The third day started with a little jewel, the 22-rank opus 1153A in the First Baptist Church of Nacogdoches. Roy Perry priorities are made clear by the presence of two celestes in a small two-manual, and again the organ fits the church like a dream. The church itself was an odd amalgam: distinctive stained glass windows and this vintage American Classic organ on the one hand, a full drum kit opposite the console and a light bridge that would be adequate for a good regional theatre on the other. In any case, Joseph Causby did a great job with a varied program from Bach to Locklair—that last being a substitution that allowed us to hear some very nice Chimes, again a voice found in most Perry organs. No snob, he . . . The program: Bach, Pièce d’Orgue, BWV 572, O Mensch bewein dein Sünde gross; Hindemith, Sonata I; Thalben-Ball, Tune in E; Duruflé, Scherzo, op. 2; Howells, Psalm Prelude, set 1, no. 3; and Guilmant, Final (Symphony No. 1 in D Minor). 

And the day continued in glory. I had gotten Catharine Crozier’s recordings from Longview in my teen years, but I wasn’t prepared for the size and magnificence of the building. It is like no other church I have seen, Gothic stripped down to the essential pointed arch and built in yellow brick on a grand scale. The window at the east end of the church is 66′ high by 16′ wide, and that reflects the sheer verticality of the design. The organ, Opus 1174, sits in chambers on either side of that lofty chancel, and Charles Callahan demonstrated its 85 ranks in a fascinating recital, mostly of unfamiliar pieces that I’m sure were chosen to show off every aspect of the organ: Wallace Sabin, Bourée in the olden style; Bach, Fantasie con Imitazione, All glory be to God on high, Lord God, now open wide Thy heavens, We all believe in one God; Cimarosa, Sonata IX; Handel, Andante; Paradies, Sicilienne; Gounod, Marche Nuptiale; Salomé, Villanelle; Jongen, Pastorale; Foote, Night–A Meditation, op. 61; Callahan, Three Gospel Preludes, Three Spirituals from Spiritual Suite, Fanfares and Riffs. It sounded wonderful in that huge room, a more sympathetic acoustic than Kilgore, and Opus 1174, wide open, filled it perfectly, the 8′ and 4′ Trompettes and Cornet of the Bombarde division being ideal climax reeds—but its quiet Romantic voices were just as effective. It is sad to think that the organ had fallen into disuse for some years and then was severely damaged by catastrophic leaks, but it is a cause for rejoicing that the church repaired and restored one of the real monuments of American Classic organbuilding.

The final event was a recital back at Kilgore by Richard Elliott, one of the masters of the Mormon Tabernacle Organ: Handel, La Rejouissance (Music for the Royal Fireworks); Bach, In dir ist Freude, BWV 615, Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582; Daquin, The Cuckoo; Widor, Andante sostenuto (Symphonie gothique, op. 70); Gawthrop, Sketchbook I; Elliot, Sing praise to God who reigns above, Be Thou my vision, Swing low, sweet chariot; Wagner, arr. Lemare, The Ride of the Valkyries. I’m sure the church elders were gratified to hear someone who daily plays an organ almost three times the size speak of how thrilled he was to be playing the Kilgore organ for the first time! In turn he managed to thrill the large audience, first with a superb performance of the Bach Passacaglia in the grand manner (every line of counterpoint there to be heard, but also every ounce of drama and passion—not the sort of effect you can get from a start-to-finish forte plenum), and finally with an all-out Ride of the Valkyries, with that miraculous Trompette-en-chamade spurring the riders on. Very exciting stuff—an over-the-top ending to an exciting week.

I am boundlessly grateful to Lorenz Maycher for organizing this heartfelt tribute to Roy Perry and his instruments. I can’t imagine how many hours’ work must have gone into planning all of the necessary arrangements and making everything work so smoothly. The music came first, but it was accompanied by good food and comfortable accommodations, and lots and lots of late-night stories. If the festival is repeated, I’ll sign up the day it’s announced, and you should, too.

Amidst the glorious music and the fun, there was an occasion for solemn reflection when the bus en route to Shreveport stopped to visit Roy Perry’s grave. His last years were difficult, and his death was tragic. His final resting place is in the family cemetery of the Crims, the local eminences who had built the church, donated the organ, and supported Perry’s musical education. His gravestone reads, “Music, once admitted to a soul, becomes a spirit and never dies.” Amen! 

 

 

June 27-July 2, 2011, Washington, D.C.

Frank Rippl

Frank Rippl holds a BM degree from Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, where he was a student of Miriam Clapp Duncan and Wolfgang Rübsam, and an MA degree from the University of Denver. He has been organist/choirmaster at All Saints Episcopal Church in Appleton since 1971, is co-founder of the Appleton Boychoir, and coordinator of the Lunchtime Organ Recital Series. Photos by Len Levasseur

 

In the immortal words of Charles  Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Now, please don’t be alarmed by those words, because the convention itself was really wonderful: terrific organs, organists, many and varied venues displaying the remarkable depth available in and around our nation’s capital—from the National Cathedral to a former convent chapel. The hotel, the food, the displays and the well-researched Atlas were just fine and highly commendable.

The only bad thing, that “worst of times,” which nearly brought the convention to its knees, was an inept bus situation that seemed to conspire against us each day by being hours late, not showing up at all, sending buses with not enough seats, or by being utterly confused as to how to get from point A to point B. It was frustrating, and many an oath was uttered. But we still had a good time in spite of the craziness. Because of the buses, I did miss one of the recitals on the last day, and I truly apologize to the performer. But enough of that. Let’s get on to the good things and the music!

The convention headquarters was at the Holiday Inn at Reagan National Airport—not far from Crystal City and Old Town Alexandria, and near the Pentagon. Coming in for a landing at Reagan Airport gives one a stunning view of the National Mall with the Capitol, the White House, and all the famous monuments. But, for organists, it is probably the sight of the National Cathedral that causes the heart to skip a beat or two. Checking in at the hotel, greeting old friends, and visiting the displays are familiar rituals of these conventions. It made it all seem very comfortable.

 

Opening event 

The first event of the convention was the recital that Monday night at the National Cathedral by Nathan Laube. The buses were hopelessly late with inadequate seating, so some of us jumped into cars and raced across town to the cathedral, which stands on the city’s highest hill, Mount St. Alban, making it easy to find. It never fails to impress. I sat in the Great Choir just in front of the console and enjoyed the view in this massive Gothic church. I was surrounded by pipes on three sides. Cathedral organist Scott Dettra greeted us and introduced the performer. Laube began with Cathedrals from Vierne’s Pièces de Fantaisie, op. 55, no. 4. He plumbed the depths of the huge stone space and the massive
E. M. Skinner foundation stops in a wonderful piece well suited to the occasion. Next was Pierre Cochereau’s Berceuse à la mémoire de Louis Vierne, transcribed by Frédéric Blanc. Like the first piece, it moved through the vast room at a majestic pace—quietly at first, then bringing in the gorgeous Skinner strings. Laube slowly added the reeds, culminating in a solo on the Tuba Mirabilis. He pulled back to the strings, along with what I believe was an 8′ flute and a nazard in the right hand, and clarinet in the pedal. It was a brilliant demonstration of this organ’s huge range of orchestral color.

Laube then explored the neo-classic sounds of this instrument with Two Fantasies by Jehan Alain. He closed the first half of the program with a wild, neo-classic-style piece Dupré wrote in memory of his father—a Tutti that was astonishing in its power. Following intermission he offered salutes to two gentlemen associated with this cathedral: Leo Sowerby and Richard Wayne Dirksen. Sowerby’s Requiescat in Pace used the “subtle colors” of Skinner’s “Sowerby Swell”—lovely strings, solo stops, and chimes. The hymn was Rejoice, ye pure in heart to the tune Vineyard Haven by Richard Wayne Dirksen. Our “Hosannas” made a joyous roar that matched the organ. 

Laube ended with his own transcription of Liszt’s Les Préludes. Great salvos of sound were hurled through the arches of the cathedral. The familiar melodies, both loud and soft, fell on our ears like the voices of old and dear friends. We heard the Trumpet-en-Chamade (which is mounted above the reredos) and the 32′ Bombarde for the first time. At other times, the Harp “plucked” away. For an encore he played Messiaen’s L’Ascension: II – Alléluias sereins—a perfect end to a truly extraordinary recital.

 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The first full day of the convention dawned bright and sunny with an amazing blue sky, making the sight of our first stop in Alexandria, Virginia, even more outstanding than it might have been. Standing atop Shuter’s Hill was the George Washington Masonic Memorial—a massive, tall, white stone structure, designed to resemble the ancient lighthouse of Alexandria, Egypt. The tower, completed in 1932, is capped with a pyramid. Inside was a great semi-circular hall lined with columns behind amphitheater-style seating. A large portrait of George Washington, dressed in his Masonic apron, hangs at the back of the stage. The three-manual Möller, Opus 8540 from 1953, was designed by Ernest White and Richard O. Whitelegg. The Atlas stated that White’s contribution was a Choir division with independent mutations and a Cromorne. The console was on the floor and against the stage, while the pipes were in the ceiling, speaking through an elaborate Art Deco grille.

Charles Miller, organist at National City Christian Church in Washington, D.C., opened with Marche aux Flambeaux by Frederick Scotson Clark, complete with trumpet fanfares. Next came Introduction and Fugue in D Minor by John Zundel. The introduction had alternating ff and mp sections, and the fugue moved along with zeal. I was struck by this organ’s strong bass sounds. Then Sowerby’s Chorale Prelude on Picardy showed off the softer side of this organ, especially the lovely Möller strings and flutes, and a rather thin Cromorne. 

Miller then played Mendelssohn’s Sonata II in C Minor. He drew dark and ponderous sounds for the Grave section, and the Adagio featured many opportunities for solo stops. The Allegro maestoso was brought off with just the right amount of style, as was the fugue. Dudley Buck’s Scherzo (from the Grand Sonata in E-flat) worked very well on this organ, as did Buck’s Variations on the Star Spangled Banner. The hymn was O Beautiful for Spacious Skies, a very moving song to sing in our nation’s capital. 

We were divided into two groups because the next venues were small. My group went to Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Collington, Maryland, where we heard Phillip L. Stimmel, an authority on Estey organs, play an Estey: Opus 655 (1908), two manuals, eight ranks, with tubular-pneumatic action. The Praeludium in A Minor by Clarence Eddy was a nice demonstration of the warm foundation stops. Ballade in D Minor by Joseph Clokey began on the Swell Stopped Diapason plus tremolo, with alternating passages on a particularly sweet Great Dulciana. An agreeable solo on the Swell reedless Oboe preceded a buildup to full organ; it then came back down to the opening sounds. In Beach’s Prelude on an Old Folk Tune, “The Fair Hills Of Eire, O,” Stimmel explored all the colors and registrations of this eight-rank organ, making it seem like a much larger instrument. Next was a favorite, Will o’ the Wisp by Gordon Balch Nevin. The hymn was O holy city, seen of John (Morning Song). Stimmel closed with Gardner Reed’s Once more, my soul, the rising day (Consolation, same tune as Morning Song), another good choice for this organ.

 

My group then went to St. Paul Moravian Church in Upper Marlboro, Maryland, to hear the church’s E. & G. G.
Hook & Hastings Opus 702 (1873), which has been enlarged and rebuilt by David M. Storey, Inc. between 1985 and 2010. Built for the temporary home of Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston, it was used until the present sanctuary was constructed. At some point it was moved down to the D.C. area. St. Paul’s first church was dedicated in 1972, and a second in 1985. The Hook organ was purchased in 1986. It sits in a transept of sorts to the right of the altar in this smallish modern red brick church, whose proud members welcomed us warmly.

Kevin Clemens, of Aberdeen, Maryland, opened with Tone Poem in F, op. 22, no. 1, by Niels Gade. Next was Arioso in the Ancient Style by James H. Rogers, which used the Oboe with tremolo. Then came Caprice by Cuthbert Harris, charming and well played, and Elevation from Messe Basse by Louis Vierne, in which we heard the rather nice Celeste, which was actually the former Great Dulciana. Next, The Cuckoo (Scherzino) by Powell Weaver, which featured the Oboe and the Melodia. The hymn was Sing praise to God who reigns above (Mit Freuden Zart). We were asked to sing harmony on the middle verse, but alas, our printed harmony was not what was played; we sang out with gusto, nonetheless. Clemens closed his program with Sousa’s Liberty Bell March. 

 

The next stop was St. John’s Episcopal Church, Broad Creek, King George Parish, Fort Washington, Maryland to hear Peter Crisafulli play the beautiful little Jacob Hilbus organ from 1819. Hilbus, born in Westphalia, Germany, was the first organbuilder in Washington. I would encourage the reader to see Michael Friesen’s excellent article in this convention’s Atlas on Hilbus’s work, and on this particular organ, as well as the fine article by convention chair Carl Schwartz. It is a lovely instrument to behold, with delicately carved pipe shades, one manual and no pedal. The sound was sweet and gentle. Crisafulli began with General Washington’s March by an anonymous composer. Cornet Voluntary by John Travers followed. We heard the Principal 4′ (played an octave lower) for the first time. Crisafulli is also an excellent composer, as we heard in his next selection: Greensleeves (from In Sweet Jubilee—A Suite of Carols for Harpsichord), played on the lovely 8′ Stopped Diapason. He next played Adagio by Mozart on the Flute 4′, which alternated with the exquisitely soft Dulciana Treble. We then heard the first Samuel Sebastian Wesley works of the convention: Choral Song—elegant, graceful music—followed by the livelier Prelude and Fugue. I enjoyed his adding the Sesquialtera in the fugue, giving a bit of bite. The hymn was From all that dwell below the skies (Old 100th). A wonderful recital on a beautiful and very historic instrument—Crisafulli did a masterful job demonstrating its many charms!

Late in the afternoon, we arrived at the Old Presbyterian Meeting House in Alexandria, Virginia, for a recital by Samuel Baker, director of the D.C. AGO Foundation. The 1849 one-manual (no pedal) Henry Erben organ stands at the front of the church behind the pulpit. In the Voluntary by William Croft, the 8′ Open Diapason alternated with a bright solo combination. Next, Festival Overture from Cutler & Johnson’s American Church Organ Voluntaries (1856). The hymn was As with gladness men of old (Dix), followed by David Dahl’s Variations on the Hymn Tune Dix. We heard a clear 4′ flute, flutes 8′ and 2′, a lovely Dulciana, a jaunty 8′ and 4′, and a fine Trumpet 8′. Stephen Schnurr presented the church with an OHS Historic Citation to encourage the preservation of this very good organ. Baker then went to this church’s other organ, which stood in the rear gallery: a Lively-Fulcher (1997) of two manuals and pedal, with mechanical key action and electric stop action. He performed Gerre Hancock’s beautiful Air (1963)—lovely sounds played with great feeling. The program ended with another hymn: Ye watchers and ye holy ones (Lasst uns Erfreuen).

The evening concert took place at Capitol Hill United Methodist Church. The building is modern in style, tall and narrow with red brick walls. It stands on the site of the birthplace of J. Edgar Hoover—the large “west end” window commemorates that historic fact. The organ, a large and sumptuous 1936 Möller, was built for Covenant-First Presbyterian Church, which later became the National Presbyterian Church. David Storey is the hero in the restoration of this priceless gem, once considered old fashioned. The organ originally had been voiced by Richard O. Whitelegg, who came to Möller from England, where he worked for Harrison & Harrison, August Gern, and Henry Willis. The Atlas states that he voiced the powerful flue stops for the Liverpool Cathedral organ. 

The organ is in the front of the church, with chambers on either side of the chancel and a smaller chamber in the left wall of the nave for the solo division. The walls of the brick nave are windowless at the clerestory level, but a large window in back has the image of the risen Christ in chunks of colored glass embedded in concrete. 

Ken Cowan began his recital with Marche héroïque by Herbert Brewer. A gutsy opening gave way to a majestic and expansive tune; at the close, the melody was played on full organ. The Soul of the Lake, op. 96, no. 1 (Pastels from the Lake of Constance) by Karg-Elert followed—a marvelously impressionistic piece, deliciously played. Next came a thundering reading of Mozart’s Fantasia in F Minor, K. 608. The hymn was Songs of thankfulness and praise (Salzburg). Cowan leads and supports in perfect proportion—ever aware of the text, the music, and the singers. The first half closed with Prelude to Act III, Parsifal, by Wagner in an arrangement by Frederic Archer. The Solo division’s French Horn stop got a workout. Cowan is a master colorist.

The second half opened with Henry Martin’s Prelude and Fugue in B Minor, a piece commissioned by Michael Barone. This was fairly tempestuous music. The fugue began in the pedal and quoted the theme of the prelude. Next was Schumann’s Canon in B Minor, Canon in A-flat Major, and Fugue on B-A-C-H. We heard the variety of reed and foundation tone on this fine organ. I especially enjoyed the A-flat Major, the end of which employed the large Tromba 8′ on the Solo, and then pulled back to the lovely Swell strings. 

We then heard Cowan’s transcription of Danse macabre by Saint-Saëns. The whole church seemed to sway back and forth to this wonderful music. Cowan made good use of the percussion on the organ: Chimes, Harp, and Celesta. He closed with Dupré’s Deux Esquisses, op. 41—totally virtuosic and muscular playing. He treated us to an encore: Roulade by Seth Bingham, a perfect bonbon to follow a concert that was like an incredibly rich and hearty meal.

 

Wednesday, June 29

We began the day on Capitol Hill at the towering St. Joseph R.C. Church, whose cornerstone was laid in 1868. It was intended to be used by the German-speaking Catholics of Washington, D.C., and architect Michael Stegmeier used his hometown’s cathedral (Cologne, Germany) as its model. The neo-gothic structure has a very high ceiling painted blue with gold stars. But the real gem for us was the magnificent three-manual, 29-rank Hook & Hastings organ, Opus 1491 from 1891. It has been restored/rebuilt many times, most recently by Bozeman-Gibson, Inc. in 1986. David Storey now tends to this highly regarded instrument.

George Bozeman Jr. entitled his program “Christmas in June.” He began with Reger’s Weihnachten, op. 145, no. 3, which began softly with the strings. The church’s air conditioning, though welcome, was terribly noisy, making much of the music nearly inaudible. The piece incorporated four different carols, ending with Stille Nacht. Bozeman played with a wonderful sense of feeling and sensitivity. Dudley Buck’s attractive Prelude (from The Coming of the King, Cantata for Advent and Christmas) incorporated “Silent Night” and “Adeste fideles.” The hymn was Adeste Fideles, which we sang powerfully in the resonant acoustic of this beautiful church.

Next was a wonderful Allegro by Katherine E. Lucke (1875–1962), which demonstrated the light and agile flute sounds of this fabulous organ. Bozeman closed with his own fine transcription of Four Fleeting Pieces, op. 15 by Clara Schumann. It was a good tour of the organ’s solo stops, and he played all very well; each musical line was beautifully shaped and controlled. We all enjoyed this recital and were quite smitten with this fantastic organ.

The second recital of the morning was at St. Martin of Tours R.C. Church, an attractive building completed in 1939 in the Florentine Renaissance style. A sign was tied between the two pillars on either side of the central door: WELCOME ALL SINNERS. I didn’t know what to make of that, but I certainly felt accommodated. The organ—Möller Opus 6809, three manuals, 22 ranks—stands in the rear gallery and speaks into a most favorable acoustic. There is reason to believe that Möller’s Richard O. Whitelegg worked on this organ. The Atlas states, “Most pipework was old and of unknown origin.” The Clarinet stop was terrific!

Carolyn Lamb Booth opened with a strong reading of Guilmant’s Grand Triumphal Chorus in A Major, op. 47, no. 2. The powerful sounds of this organ filled the space evenly; I liked the Trumpet. Next, Edward Bairstow’s Evening Song, registered perfectly. The hymn was “Christ, be our light.” Organ and organist led it convincingly. After that, the beautiful Elegy by George Thalben-Ball showed the many lovely solo stops and was nicely played. (I noted the Catholic Church in its current state of transition: the confessionals were used to store old kneelers.) The closing piece was Saint-Saëns’ Prelude and Fugue in E-Flat Major, op. 99, no. 3, perfectly suited to this fine organ and organist.

The final stop of the morning was at the lovely St. Gabriel’s R.C. Church in Washington, D.C., to hear its Lewis & Hitchcock, Opus 165 (1930) of two manuals and pedal, 21 ranks. It stands in a divided case on either side of the rear gallery of this English Tudor-style building, whose cornerstone was laid in 1930. We were greeted with the sound of bells—extra points! Upon entering, we encountered the smell of good incense—more extra points! Stephen J. Morris began his program with a hymn, Sing to God! Lift up your voices (Alchester). Robust OHS singing matched the organ very well in that great acoustic! 

Morris’s first selection was Mendelssohn’s War March of the Priests, which showed the strength of this organ’s sound as we enjoyed this cruciform church with its beautiful glass and elegant appointments. Next was Andante ‘Choeur de Voix humaines’, op. 122, no. 7, by Lefébure-Wély. The Great’s very beautiful Gross Flute made bubbly sounds against the Swell’s equally fine Vox Humana. Then Seth Bingham’s Rhythmic Trumpet (from Baroques, op. 41), followed by another character piece, The Squirrel by Powell Weaver—an entertaining bit of whimsey played with good humor. 

Next was Liszt, Introduction and Fugue (after Johann Sebastian Bach, from Cantata 21, Ich hatte viel Bekümmernis), played with broad authority and featuring the organ’s fine plenum. That was followed by a little composition that featured the Oboe: Allegretto in E-flat, op. 17, no. 2 by William Wolstenholme (1865–1931)—cute music. Then came the beautiful Claire de Lune from Karg-Elert’s Trois Impressions, op. 72—lovely music well chosen for organ, space, and audience. Morris played it exquisitely right down to the last ppp on the Aeoline. The recital ended with the March upon a Theme of Handel, op. 15, no. 2, by Guilmant. A fine performance and concert, which demonstrated the organ most admirably.

Following a box lunch, my group made its way to the Armed Forces Retirement Home, founded in 1851. It sits high on a hill overlooking the city of Washington. Abraham Lincoln spent a lot of time there escaping the heat of summer. The rolling grounds are extensive, tranquil, and very green with lots of trees and grass. The organ was in Stanley Hall, a facility built for recreation and entertainment, but now used a chapel. The organ, a two-manual and pedal instrument built by Stevens & Jewett (ca. 1855), is interesting for its 18-note pedalboard. The 16′ Double Open Diapason has only 12 pipes. The Atlas states: “From second C the pedals simply repeat the pipes in the bottom octave.” The instrument was acquired through the Organ Clearing House, having come from the former Universalist Church in Mechanics Falls, Maine. David Moore did the restoration. 

Rosalind Mohnsen opened her program with Allegro moderato maestoso by Mendelssohn, which had a fine majestic march feel to it. Then came John Stanley’s Voluntary in A, op. 7, no. 1, Adagio—Allegro. The Adagio was played on the Great Open Diapason—a warm and widely scaled sound. The Allegro used some lovely softer but bright stops on the Swell. Next, Gavotte Pastorale by Frederick Shackley (1868–1937). The Swell alternated with the Great Diapasons, then some of the Swell 8′ stops with tremolo—a good piece that showed some of the many colors of this organ. The hymn was, appropriately, Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord (Battle Hymn of the Republic). Mohnsen always chooses hymns and pieces with great care so that they are well suited to the instrument and place at hand. Her next selection was Abraham Lincoln’s Funeral March, op. 7 (1865), “In memory of a Country’s Martyred Father” by William Wolsieffer. Paul Marchesano hand pumped the organ. The piece showed more of the organ’s color, the fine reeds in particular. 

Next came Melodie (Homage to Grieg) by George Elbridge Whiting (1840–1923), which carefully demonstrated more solo stop combinations. Mohnsen closed with Marche militaire by Scotson Clark (1841–1883), a snappy number in which we heard more of the reeds. 

 

We next visited St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, Riverdale, Maryland, which possesses a sweet little Jardine organ, originally built in 1853 as a one manual, and enlarged to two manuals in 1890. After several church “homes”, it had been purchased by OHS member Carolyn Fix, who sold it to St. John’s in 1988, and was rebuilt and enlarged by James Baird. It stands at the rear of this smallish cement block structure. Lawrence Young began with four selections from The Green Mountain Organ Book by Charles Callahan. In Prelude and Fugue we heard the lovely 8′ foundation stops. Rondeau used Great 8′ and 4′ in the A section, while the B sections used the Swell 4′ and 2′ with shades closed. It ended with Procession, which closed quietly. The next selection was Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in G Major, op. 37, no. 2, which started on the Great 8′ and 4′ Principals. The fugue was solidly played. Following that, Young played Daniel Pinkham’s Be Thou My Vision: Partita on Slane, a good demonstration piece. We then sang the hymn on which the partita was based. It was all very enjoyable.

 

For the afternoon’s last recital, our buses climbed up the hill to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Crypt Church, to hear the 1987 Schudi organ (two manuals, 23 stops, 25 ranks) built in the style of Gottfried Silbermann. The organ stands in a wide transept to the right of the altar.

Peter Latona, director of music at the shrine, began with Buxtehude’s Praeludium in F-sharp minor, BuxWV 146. In that acoustic, the effect was splendid; clean, clear sound, emanating from the polished tin pipes, filled the space. It was a superb performance, full of life, grace, and vigor. Then the Andante from Bach’s Trio Sonata IV, BWV 528, using an 8′ flute on each manual and 16′ and 8′ flutes in the pedal—a warm and inviting sound. Next, O Gott, du frommer Gott, op. 122, no. 7, by Brahms, showed the rich 8′ foundation stops. Then Latona played Joseph Jongen’s Petit Prelude, soloing out the tune on the Swell Schalmey, showing more of the romantic side of this organ. 

Then came a special treat: a series of improvisations creating a Suite on Rendez a Dieu. I. Trompette en taille; II. was the hymn itself, which we all sang; III. was a trio with the Cornet in the left hand; IV. was a Grand jeux complete with a duo in the middle. Very skillful improvisation founded securely in the French Baroque style. Latona made me wish that I lived in Washington, D.C. so I could hear him play every Sunday. 

Following a most tasty buffet dinner at the Pryzbyla Center, Catholic University of America, buses took us to Immaculate Conception Church in Washington, D.C. to hear Bruce Stevens play the evening recital on the church’s 1879 Steer & Turner organ, Opus 131 (two manuals, 25 stops). The church is a large sort of Tudor Gothic with tall windows. The program opened with Festive Prelude on the Chorale ‘Lobe den Herren’ by Niels Gade (1822–1890), which started with long chords and then led into a more “festive” reading of the melody going from manual to manual. That led to the hymn, Praise ye the Lord, the almighty (Lobe den Herren). Our “Let the Amen!” in that acoustic was something to hear!

Stevens then played Partita sopra Aria della Folia da Espagna by Bernardo Pasquini (1637–1710). I was amazed at how well this very 19th-century organ could sound in this music. Next, an Allegro by João de Sousa Carvalho (1745–1798).Then Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543. The fugue was especially fine—masterful and profoundly musical playing! We then heard George Shearing’s setting of Amazing Grace, which was not in the program. Next was Saturnus (from The Planets: Suite of Seven Pieces for Organ) by Bent Lorentzen (b. 1935); lots of repeated chords accompanying a melodic line—wild music! 

Stevens then closed this fine program with Rheinberger’s Sonata No. 9 in B-flat Minor, op. 142. I especially enjoyed the second movement, Romanze, which was a good demonstration of the exquisite flutes on this instrument, as well as the quiet foundation stops. Movement three, Fantasie und Finale–Fuga, showed the clarity of the plenum. This is a very fine organ. The Fantasie contained Buxtehude-like runs, and the very well-conceived Fuga was performed with clear and refined style that comes with a long association with this music. It was a glorious evening!

 

Thursday, June 30

Lorenz Maycher began this day for us on a nearly mint-condition E. M. Skinner, Opus 744, from 1928, at the Church of the Pilgrims (Presbyterian) in Washington, D.C. It has three manuals and about 30 stops and stands in the rear gallery divided on either side of the window. Maycher is a specialist with Skinner organs. He played an entire program of music by Richard Purvis, beginning with Toccata Festiva. It was exciting music and playing—the organ filling the space nicely. The hymn was There’s a wideness in God’s mercy (In Babilone). He then played the popular Melody in Mauve, which sounded wonderful on this beautiful organ. Next was another popular piece, Les Petites Cloches, which featured the chimes and harp. Then, Idyl, with the lovely Flute Celeste II accompanying the Concert Flute, followed by the Vox Humana. 

Repentance was the next piece and showed the softer foundation stops, followed by the strings and then the larger foundation stops; the Tutti came on, but the piece ended with the softest strings. Maycher ended this lovely program with Thanksgiving, which began with the Great Tuba blasting out a fanfare in dialogue with the Swell reeds. A quiet B section, featuring the Clarinet, led us back to the beginning. Wonderful music, brilliantly played on a gorgeous American organ! 

The next stop was Epiphany R.C. Church in Georgetown to enjoy its two-manual, 11-stop Hook & Hastings, Opus 1623. Built in 1894 for a music room in Boston, it eventually found its way to this small and charming church. David M. Storey Inc. restored the organ in 2003. It stands in the rear balcony, its pipes painted in warm yet bright colors. Convention chair Carl Schwartz described this organ brilliantly in the Atlas: “This musical instrument reveals its charms in subtle ways, much like a fine wine unfolding before the senses. As with most Hook & Hastings organs of this modest type, it proves to be far more than the sum of its parts.” 

Kimberly Hess opened with Buxtehude’s Toccata in F Major, BuxWV 157, which worked very well on this 1894 organ. The hymn was I sing the mighty power of God (Mozart). She then played no. X from 23 Préludes liturgiques by Gaston Litaize. We heard the beautiful and careful voicing of the smaller sounds on this lovely organ; each stop is satisfying in every way. Then C.P.E. Bach’s Sonata in D Major, Wq 70/5, which showed refined 8′ and 4′ sounds in the Allegro di molto. In the Adagio e mesto she used the Swell Stopped Diapason with tremolo to good effect. The Allegro was cheerful and bright with good dialogue between the manuals. Hess ended her fine concert with two selections from Arthur Foote’s Seven Pieces for Organ, op. 71. Cantilena in G featured a solo on the organ’s gorgeous Oboe. The melody was spun out for us with warmth and just the right amount of flexibility. Toccata moved well in the opening A section, coming to a restful B section. It finished big, using the sub and super couplers from the Swell. First-rate playing on a first-rate organ. 

The last stop of the morning was at the sprawling and beautiful Washington Hebrew Congregation, begun in 1856. The present building was completed in 1955. The organ, a large three-manual Aeolian-Skinner, Opus 1285, was installed in 1956. The organ stands in front of the room, although the pipes (and organist) are hidden. There is beautiful tone and balance within the divisions. Two well-known organists have served this congregation: German composer and scholar Herman Berlinski, and B. Michael Parrish, a student of Herbert Howells and George Thalben-Ball. Mr. Parrish began with very soft flute sounds in Sabbath Eve by Robert Starer (1924–2001). Next a piece by one of his teachers: George Thalben-Ball’s Elegy—a great piece that built to a fine roar. Then a piece by another of his teachers: Herbert Howells’s Master Tallis’s Testament, with a beautiful solo sound from the Choir. Next was a very moving In Memoriam by Herman Berlinski (played in memory of Sina G. Berlinski). That was followed by “Rosh Hashana” from Funf Fest-Preludien, op. 37, by Louis Lewandowski, and then the hymn The God of Abraham praise (Yigdal). A very beautiful and meaning-filled program.

We then made our way to Washington’s National City Christian Church, a building designed by John Russell Pope, who also designed the National Archives, the Jefferson Memorial, and the National Gallery—so one can imagine that it is indeed an imposing structure fronted with a huge sweeping staircase. It opened circa 1929. The first organ was by the Skinner Organ Company, Opus 824 (four manuals, 55 ranks). Like many of those grand old E. M. Skinner organs, it was deemed old fashioned by mid-century, and in the 1960s it began to be greatly enlarged by the Möller Company and others until it reached its present size of five manuals and 141 ranks, including a large Antiphonal division in the rear of the church. The main organ stands in the front of this basilica-like structure behind the apse and four huge granite columns—all of this in a building smaller than several of the larger Catholic churches we had visited. It is the third largest organ in the city, but it is in a building smaller, it seemed, than of one of the National Cathedral’s transepts. Perhaps E. M. had the right idea about proportion for the space. This is a very loud organ, and too big for the church.

The legendary and brilliant organist, composer, and teacher John Weaver gave a terrific program. He opened with Bach’s Wir glauben all an einen Gott, S. 680 (Clavierübung Part III). It was a bit of a shock to hear this Möller with its 1975-era mixtures after two and a half days of more subtle mixture sound. Next was Mozart’s Adagio and Allegro in F Minor, K 594. The Adagio was lovely, but the Allegro was a bit over the top with the power and aggressiveness of the registration choices. Weaver played it very well with good attention to detail, but it was just too loud. I found myself wondering if he had trouble judging the level of the sounds as the pipes spoke over the player’s head, sending all the sound into the nave. 

Then Karg-Elert’s Five Chorale Improvisations from opus 65. 1. Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern used the lovely strings and soft foundation stops. 2. O Gott, du frommer Gott used several levels of foundation tone. 3. Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend was quite loud and seemed to demand Christ’s presence among us—brilliant playing with a wild pedal part! 4. Herzlich lieb hab ich dich, o Herr—gorgeous music with a gentle echo after each phrase; we heard the famous Handbells stop on this organ—interesting, but I wasn’t crazy about them. 5. Nun danket alle Gott was the well-known piece often played at weddings. It was another case, however, of over-use of the loud sounds. This organ is simply too big for this room.

Next came one of Weaver’s own compositions, Carillon (2002), which used the Handbell stop. The bells were accompanied by gurgling flutes—very nice music. The hymn was Surely the Lord is in this place to the tune Madison Avenue by Weaver. He then played a piece he wrote based on his hymn tune Meyers Park, following by the singing of the hymn. Weaver closed with his famous Toccata for Organ (1958). It was very exciting, but, with this instrument, it was painfully loud. One longed for the old E. M. Skinner organ that first graced this church.

The bus caravan deposited us at the lovely All Souls Unitarian Church in Washington, D.C. The congregation traces itself back as far as 1815, but the present church, styled after St. Martin in the Fields, London, was built in 1923. The organ was built by Rieger in 1969, a tracker of four manuals, 60 registers, and 96 ranks. It was an important instrument in its time and attracted quite a bit of attention, with a Rückpositiv and an enclosed Brustwerk that has glass shades. It also was the first, it is said, to have computerized combination action with multiple memory levels. To our ears it sounds dated, but in its day I’m sure it was a revelation. There is still much to admire in this instrument. 

Eileen Morris Guenther opened with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in C, BWV 547 (“the 9/8”). I would have liked to hear more articulation in the playing, which seemed rushed with many dropped passing tones. All the drama in that wonderful fugue was lost. Next, Prelude for the Organ in G Major by Fanny Hensel (née Mendelssohn-Bartholdy). The mid-20th century mixtures got in the way of an otherwise good performance. Then Robert Schumann’s Sketch in D-flat, which used the 8′ foundations and flutes. Staying in the Schumann family, we heard Clara’s Prelude and Fugue for Organ, op. 16, no. 3, played very well. Two spirituals by Joe Utterback (b. 1944) followed: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (blues for manuals) and Balm in Gilead. I enjoyed her fine performance of them, which showed the pretty soft string sounds. The hymn, a new setting of “A Mighty Fortress” by Emma Lou Diemer (Reformation), was not the easiest thing to sing. This was an instructive recital that showcased the transitional state of organ building midway through the last century.

The evening program was Solemn Evensong and Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, K Street in Washington. D.C. My bus got lost and we barely made it on time. Since all the pews were occupied, I got to sit in a row of chairs set up in front of the front pew—a great view of all the proceedings. The church was founded in 1866, but the present building dates from 1948. It is very traditional, with all the high church trimmings, great acoustics, and a four-manual Schoenstein & Co. organ of 52 voices and 65 ranks. The organ and choir are divided on either side of the chancel, and there is a Tuba Mirabilis mounted on the liturgical west end (the pipes stand vertically). The volunteer choir was superb in every way, led by director of music and organist Robert McCormick, and accompanied by assistant director of music John Bradford Bohl. 

The pre-service voluntary was Rhein-berger’s Introduction and Passacaglia from Sonata No. 8 in E Minor. It was marvelously played, but I could not tell by whom. The responsory was by Hancock, the preces were by Philip Radcliffe, and the psalms were sung to Anglican chants by Stanford and Thalben-Ball. The organ was perfect for the proper accompaniment of Anglican chant; amazing effects could be created by the swell boxes within swell boxes. Each line of the psalms was carefully prepared by the organist, and the choir sang with proper style and grace. 

The office hymn was All praise to thee, for thou, O King divine (Engelberg). Now, if you have never been to an OHS convention, the hymn singing is amazing. So it was with a certain amusement that I noted a few of the choir members looking out at us with widened eyes as if to say “Who are these people?” We fed each other as congregation, choir, and organ raised the song from our collective hearts to amazing heights—it was an unforgettable moment! The Magnificat and Nunc dimittis came from Evening Service No. 2 in E-flat Major by Charles Wood. It was a powerful sound—McCormick drew astonishing sounds from his forces. After the prayers, they sang the Salve Regina, and then one of my favorite anthems, Te Lucis ante terminum by Henry Balfour Gardiner. That was followed by Benediction. The closing voluntary was a stunning improvisation. It was an unforgettable evening, both musically and spiritually.

 

Friday, July 1

Our day began at the beautiful National Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. with a recital by that church’s organist, William Neil. The church was established in 1947, but has connections dating back to 1780. The present building was opened in 1969. The organ was one of the last Aeolian-Skinner organs, and has been altered many times since then. A Solo division was added in 2010 using several E. M. Skinner ranks. The organ has four manuals and seven divisions. It was featured at the AGO convention in 2010 in a concert by Nathan Laube. I was eager to hear the Skinner Solo division ranks, as they were not playing for that recital. Neil’s fine recital began with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in F Minor, op. 65, no. 1. In the first movement we heard the clear and never overwhelming plenum, with echos on an 8′ reed. The beautiful Adagio showed the lovely strings along with several excellent solo stops including the French Horn. The Andante used the Antiphonal 8′ and 4′ flutes against a reed chorus on the main organ in front. The Antiphonal is at the back of the room, while the main organ is behind a screen on the front wall. The Allegro assai vivace burst forth with extraordinary energy and power. This was one of the most exciting performances I’ve ever heard of this piece. 

In Elgar’s Nimrod (from Enigma Variations, op. 36), the organ’s gorgeous and lush strings were on full display; the clear Clarinet uttered its plaintive cry. The marvelous crescendo began building seamlessly to full organ, then tumbled gently back down to a breathless ppp—it was brilliantly achieved. Next came J. S. Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor. Neil began on quiet flutes. His trills were flawless, and the calm pedal was unruffled by the increasingly busy manual parts. This was a fabulous performance of one of the great monuments of western civilization. My only criticism of this concert was that there was too much loud music. Our ears needed more variety. Stunning though this performance was, we had a long day ahead of us. The hymn was O Lord, You are my God and King (Jerusalem).

 

We made our way through the tree-lined streets of Washington, D.C. to St. Columba’s Episcopal Church in a quiet neighborhood. A handsome church, it looks as though it would be right at home in an English village. Built in 1926–1927, its first organ was a Lewis & Hitchcock that was replaced in 1981 by the present organ, a two-manual, 25-rank Flentrop that the company enlarged in 2003, adding three stops to the pedal. It stands majestically in the liturgical north transept. 

Mark Steinbach began with Philip Glass’s Mad Rush (1981), which worked well on this organ. Next, Bruhns’s Kleine Praeludium in E Minor, played freely and skillfully. This piece provides good opportunity to vary registration—a plus at an OHS convention. There were a few inner rhythmic patterns that were hurried, but he got the big overall shape of this piece quite nicely, and the organ was lovely. Then came Buxtehude’s chorale prelude on Nun komm’ der Heiden Heiland in a beautiful demonstration of the Hoodfwerk Cornet—played with wonderful sensitivity and flexibility. Keeping with that same chorale, the hymn was Savior of the nations, come. The organ held its own leading our vigorous singing—good playing!

My teacher in college, Miriam Clapp Duncan, was Anton Heiller’s second American student. So I was eager to hear the next piece, Nun Komm’ der Heiden Heiland—Eight Variations (1972), by Anton Heiller. (Steinbach has recorded a forthcoming CD of the music of Anton Heiller’s music.) He used the full range of this organ. I especially liked the Borstwerk 4′ Roerfluit, which seemed to chirp. Steinbach closed with more Philip Glass: Satyagraha, Act III, Conclusion (1980). While it was interesting to hear, for me, at least, it soon wore out its welcome. He did build a fine crescendo. This is a very good organ, and Steinbach gave an excellent tour of it. 

The next organ was a major historic treat: a nearly intact three-manual Henry Erben organ from 1850—very rare, and very exciting for us OHS’ers. This was at Trinity United Methodist Church in McLean, Virginia. The congregation can trace its beginnings back to 1820. They built their present Georgian-style church in 1961. The organ was originally built for Monumental Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia. In 1926 they replaced it with a Skinner, keeping the Erben façade, which was silenced. The Erben pipes went to another church. James Baird managed to put the Erben back together between 1975 and 1997. It now stands rather proudly in the front of this sanctuary. Nearly all the pipework has been restored, with three rare Erben reed stops. The organ has a painted white case with gold trim. There are dentils adorning the tops of the towers. The capitals at the tops of the towers have carved flowers painted colorfully. The church created needlepoint kneelers using the case designs. Convention chair Carl Schwartz, in introducing the concert, called the organ “a national treasure.” 

Before the recital began, we had the annual meeting, which included the introduction of the four E. Power Biggs Fellows to this convention. The Fellows get an all-expense-paid trip to the convention. Many eventually become performers at subsequent conventions and go on to great success in the organ world. We also had a delightful preview of next summer’s convention in Chicago.

Kevin Birch began his program with Concerto in G Major, BWV 592 (after Ernst) by J. S. Bach. In the Allegro he used the Great 8′ 4′ 2′ in alternation with the Swell. The second movement, Grave, used flutes 8′ with tremolo, a beautiful sound. The Presto was played with secure rhythm and nicely shaped phrases. Next, William Boyce’s Voluntary I in D. The Larghetto featured the very attractive 8′ Open Diapason; the Vivace featured the delicious Great Trumpet; I loved that sound—full bodied and true. Next, Muffat’s Aria sub elevazione (aria, three variations, aria), which worked quite well on this organ. Then, Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 1 in F, op. 65. I especially enjoyed the fourth movement, when he added the thrilling 16′ Trombone in the Pedal. It was all good, solid playing on a really fine and certainly historic instrument! 

The hymn was Ye servants of God (Hanover). Guilmant’s Prière et Berceuse followed the hymn, beginning on a very quiet string. The Berceuse began with a solo on the Oboe. It was a gorgeous call from the past that made one long for the many organs that are lost. Thanks be that this one has come down to us virtually intact. The piece ended with the sweet sound of the Swell Dulciana and tremolo. Birch ended this marvelous recital with Grand Choeur in G Major by Théodore Solomon. After a sturdy beginning, a fugue started, using 8′ foundations and the Oboe, sounding very French. The Mixture came on with full organ, bringing the piece to an end—very good playing on a remarkably versatile organ!

And so we came to the final evening recital of the convention. Following a delicious meal at the American Indian Museum, we walked to St. Dominic’s R.C. Church, just a few blocks off the National Mall. It is a large gray granite church completed in 1875. It has seen several fires in its history. The church’s Hilborne Roosevelt Opus 290 dates from 1885: three manuals and 47 ranks. Originally a tracker, after various fires and rebuilds it is now on electro-pneumatic action. It enjoys a fantastic acoustic, is just the right size for the building, and stands in the rear gallery. 

Thomas Murray began with Rheinberger’s Sonata in G, op. 88, no. 3. The first part featured the fine plenum. Later we heard the beautiful Cornopean on the Swell. The closing movement was all fire and bravura. Then, Bossi’s Ave Maria, showing the lovely strings and flutes with tremolo, and Bossi’s Divertimento en forma de Giga—immaculate playing. Next, Guilmant’s Communion on Ecce panis angelorum on quiet 8′ and 4′ flutes, then the soft 8′ foundations. Guilmant’s Caprice in B-flat was a nice contrasting bit of whimsey, with chords tossed out into the great nave of this church—a charming sense of fun. Then, Grand Choeur on “Benedicamus Domino” (1934) by Guy Weitz. The Great and Swell reeds called back and forth. A fugue followed on the very good plenum—all very lively and yet grand. The hymn was There’s a wideness in God’s mercy (Blaenwern). 

Following intermission, Murray played Alfred Hollins’s Concert Overture in C Minor (1899). Bold, strong, and large chords were flung through the nave. The Swell reeds had a solo or two before returning to the Great. The piece gave voice to several solo stops and a fugue before returning to the opening material. Liszt’s Epilogue (from Années de Pèlerinage, Suisse) worked very well on the organ. Murray closed with Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3, which made one want to get up and dance. It was a brilliant performance! 

 

Saturday, July 2

This was an “extra” day, with just three recitals. About half the convention attendees chose to go home following the Friday night recital. A few elected to stay, wanting to hear the Pomplitz organ that was on the schedule. However, the buses confounded our best intentions. The company only sent one bus, but we needed two. We all lined up in the usual manner behind the hotel. The first ones in line got on that bus. The rest of us waited for nearly two hours. It really was frustrating. But finally one came after several frantic phone calls. We missed the recital at St. Patrick’s in the City R.C. Church with its large three-manual 1994 Lively-Fulcher organ built in a French manner. The recitalist was Ronald Stolk. My apologies to all concerned that I was unable to review that recital. 

We did get to hear the August Pomplitz organ, No. 140, built in 1869 for Grace Episcopal Church in Alexandria. The organ was believed to have come to St. Vincent de Paul R.C. Church in Washington, D.C. about 1905—two manuals, 16 ranks with mechanical key and stop action. Carl Schwartz called it “a lovely instrument and a survivor.” It stands in the rear gallery of this little church. Philip T.D. Cooper started with Voluntary VII in G Major (from Ten Organ Voluntaries, op. 6) by John Stanley. Next, Flute Piece in F by William Hine. The flutes on this organ possess a rare beauty. Cooper handled the sounds with deftness and clarity. In Voluntary in A Minor by Lucien H. Southard (1827–1881), we heard the foundation stops, which ended in a fine fugal section.

Cooper’s own Fuga I tertii tone was a hit with the audience. The hymn was Jerusalem, my happy home, sung to Cooper’s tune, Kenny Dawson’s Mighty Hymn. We then heard this organ’s elegant strings in Tantum Ergo by John Henry Wilcox. The program closed with Postlude in A Major by George J. Webb.

The final concert of the convention was at St. Mary Mother of God R.C. Church in Washington, D.C., founded in 1845 for the German-speaking Catholics. The organ, which is in the rear balcony, is George S. Hutchings’ Opus 239 from 1891: two manuals, 27 ranks; it is nearly intact with its original tracker action. Timothy Edward Smith began with Bonnet’s Fantasy on Two Noels. A hymn followed: Sing of Mary, pure and holy (Raquel). Next, two selections from Seth Bingham’s Sixteen Carol Canons in Free Style. In Gabriel’s Salutation, which had  six canons, he demonstrated all manner of sounds small and great. Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabelle had three canons. These were great organ demonstration pieces, with many refined colors.

Next was Myron Roberts’ Improvisation on God Rest You Merry. I loved the sweet little 8′ Dolcissimo stop on the Great. Then, Harvey Gaul’s The Christmas Pipes of County Clare. The flutes had their day in this charming and wonderful music. Get this music—your congregation will love you! A second hymn followed: Hark! the herald angels sing (Mendelssohn), then Balbastre’s Joseph is a good husband. The fine reeds on this organ were well displayed making a mighty Grands Jeux. The final piece, and the finale to the convention, was Fantasy on Two English Carols. The First Noel was nicely articulated. Good King Wenceslaus was heard on the Swell reeds, and then on the soft flues and flutes. The First Noel returned triumphantly! A grand conclusion to a grand convention.

This was another outstanding OHS convention. Carl Schwartz and his committee are all to be congratulated for an exceptional effort. The organs were in great shape, the venues were spectacular, the scholarship we saw in the Atlas, the Convention Handbook, and the Hymn Book evidenced their thoroughness and affection for the organs of the communities in which they are so blessed to live. And, of course, the beauty of our nation’s capital seemed to grace and welcome us at every turn. 

The 2012 OHS national convention takes place July 9–13 in Chicago. For information: www.organsociety.org.