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In Memoriam Catharine Crozier

January 18, 1914-September 19, 2003

Tributes by Thomas Harmon, Karen McFarlane, John Strege and Frederick Swann
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Catharine Crozier died on September 19, 2003, in Portland, Oregon, at the age of 89. A complete obituary appears in the November issue of The Diapason ("Nunc Dimittis," page 10). The following tributes are presented In Memoriam.

Catharine Crozier--Paragon of our profession

A fond remembrance by Thomas Harmon

Long before I saw her or heard her play, I heard the name Catharine Crozier spoken with reverence by my boyhood organ teachers. It was not until my undergraduate years at Washington University in the late 1950s that the long awaited opportunity presented itself when she came to St. Louis to play on the university's recital series in Graham Chapel. I shall never forget seeing her walk gracefully in her stunning floor length gown to the console, front and center on the chapel dais. A radiant smile on her face, she was truly a vision of elegance and beauty as she ascended to the bench, parting the skirt of her custom-made gown and draping it in a regal train over the back of the bench. Even before she raised her hands to sound the first notes, she had me mesmerized. I was in the presence of royalty, and, as the recital unfolded from memory, piece by piece, so perfectly juxtaposed, meticulously registered, beautifully articulated and flawlessly played, I knew that I was experiencing greatness. Little did I know, when I stepped up in awe to meet her and gush my admiration following the recital, that someday she and her renowned spouse Harold Gleason would become dear personal friends during their California years.

Many times over the next four decades I was treated to a Crozier recital, and my experience was always the same--programming that was on the cutting edge in exploring both early and new music, remarkable stylistic versatility that was always historically informed and up-to-date throughout her long recital and teaching career, meticulous registration with appropriately applied artistic restraint and impeccable technique. My first opportunity to hear Catharine after that unforgettable recital in Graham Chapel came more than a decade later, after she and Harold had moved to California and I had assumed the post of university organist at UCLA. One of my first actions in that post was to oversee restoration of the 4-manual, 80-rank Skinner organ in Royce Hall, designed by Harold in consultation with G. Donald Harrison. Harrison did the tonal finishing, and Gleason played the inaugural recital in September, 1930. Thus, I had many reasons for inviting Catharine to play at Royce Hall in January, 1972. My wife and I invited Catharine and Harold to be our houseguests during her recital visit, and we spent a memorable time together getting to know each other. They kept us laughing with their favorite form of humor, limericks, at which they were both virtuosi. Harold contributed greatly to my file on the Royce Hall organ with colorful stories of his California days and his interaction with UCLA, E. M. Skinner and G. Donald Harrison. (I was later to capture this on tape in an oral history interview that I did with him in another of the Gleasons' visits with us in 1978.) Catharine enjoyed our new Hradetzky house organ and revealed her ingratiating personality and clever wit, complemented by her delightful chuckle, as well as her appreciation of fine food and an occasional glass of sherry before dinner. Her Royce Hall recital was, of course, a triumph and a special moment for Harold to whom we paid tribute as the designer of the organ.

Sue and I later enjoyed being the Gleasons' guests in Rancho Bernardo, near San Diego, and later in their second California home in Claremont. Despite their success and fame, they lived a disciplined, unpretentious life, committed to artistic and scholarly excellence. It was in their Rancho Bernardo home that I saw and heard for the first time Catharine's harpsichord and cherished house organ by Laukhuff, with its 2-manual, custom-built Aeolian-Skinner console, on which she did much of her practicing and memorization throughout her career. The organ was designed to fit comfortably in a normal 8-foot ceiling height and to be easily movable, quite fortunately, since I believe it was purchased in their Eastman days, subsequently moved with them to Rollins College in Florida, then to four different locations in southern California and finally to Portland.

The year 1980 marked the 50th anniversary of UCLA's Royce Hall organ, and I invited Catharine to re-create Harold's 1930 dedication program, an invitation that she was pleased to accept. By this time we had become dear friends, and I revelled in hearing stories about Catharine's then forty years as a major recitalist. We discovered that we had a mutual love of trains, and she told enthusiastically of her train adventures all over the country as well as her spirit of adventure in exploring, usually on foot, each new town or city in which she performed. Catharine's recital at Royce Hall on June 6, 1980, was a very special event, indeed, and in retrospect was given further poignance and meaning by the fact that Harold Gleason passed away just three weeks later. Harold's funeral in the Claremont church that the Gleasons had attended offered yet another example of Catharine's very special qualities as a human being. Her presence that day was a role model of  deep spiritual faith, personal strength and acceptance, and her decision on the music for the service was communicated by the simple printed statement that the organ would be silent this day in respect for the loss of Dr. Gleason.

Another memorable recital occurred sometime in the early 1980s, when she performed Ned Rorem's complete Quaker Reader at Whittier College Chapel, including narration by Hollywood actor Peter Mark Richman.  Rorem, a great admirer of Catharine who was a champion of his and many other composers' new music, was present. If I had to rank them, I would say that the greatest Crozier performance that I have ever heard, perhaps the greatest organ recital that I have ever experienced, was her program for the 1987 Far West Regional Convention of the AGO in San Diego. Flawlessly performed by memory on the First Presbyterian Church's superb 4-manual Casavant organ were three 20th-century works: Ned Rorem's Views from the Oldest House, Norberto Guinaldo's Lauda Sion Salvatorem, and Leo Sowerby's Symphony in G Major (a Crozier signature piece throughout her long career). Following her performance, I told Catharine that I had never heard her play with such flair and depth of expression, and in an example of her keen wit, she replied that she was just now beginning to feel in control of the instrument. A day or so after the recital, dear Catharine accepted my invitation to have lunch with me and take a cruise aboard my boat at the harbor in Oceanside, and I shall always remember her boarding the boat like a seasoned yachtsman and her delight in the sea world around us. She loved adventure.

When I made my decision in 1983 to step down from my position as organist at the First United Methodist Church in Santa Monica to take on the job of Chair of the UCLA Music Department, I approached Catharine, who had moved to Whittier after Harold's death, about the possibility of her serving as interim organist at the church while a search was conducted for my successor. She indicated that she might like to do this, and the end result was her decision sometime later to accept the church's hopeful invitation to stay on as the regular organist. Fortunately, she accepted, moved to the Santa Monica area and delighted the congregation with her marvelous service playing for the next nine years. I was on hand to pinch hit for her when she was away playing recitals, but she proved to be dedicated to the position and seemed to thoroughly enjoy being back on the bench playing services regularly. The choir adored her (everyone did!) and many stayed in touch with her as personal friends after she moved to Portland in 1992. At that time, I had just stepped down from the chairmanship at UCLA and accepted the church's invitation to return for what turned out to be another nine years. While she was there, Catharine had overseen the installation of new swell reeds and a new great mixture, making the organ better than ever. Typical of her exemplary pedagogical approach to playing the organ, the organ copies of the hymnal and anthems were lightly marked in pencil with her fingerings, pedallings, registration and manual changes. I learned a lot from them and respectfully left the markings for my successors.

Late memories: her stunning 80th birthday recital at the Crystal Cathedral (how could anyone but Crozier play such a huge organ with such grace and control at the age of 80?); her 85th birthday recital at the First Congregational Church on the world's largest church organ (by this time she was handicapped by the loss of vision in one eye, but she had no trouble finding her way around the maze of that immense console and tossing off the Liszt BACH as though it were easy); and, finally, her "Life Experiences" presentation at the 2001 Northwest Regional Convention of the AGO in Eugene. I noted that she had grown quite frail, as John Strege and I called for her at her hotel room to escort her to the venue for her presentation, but her radiant smile and warm greeting were not frail. Her presentation was deeply moving to me and, I am sure, to everyone present. It was the last time I saw Catharine in person, although we spoke on the phone periodically after that. I shall miss her presence and her friendship but will be nurtured for the rest of my life by happy memories and her supreme example of excellence.         

A tribute to Catharine Crozier Gleason

by Karen McFarlane

To read Catharine Crozier's recital reviews is to realize what a superb artist we have lost. "Catharine Crozier . . . may be an honored veteran among organ players . . . but she can still run rings around much of her younger competition, not only in interpretive style but in sheer technique as well." (New York Times) "At home in any style, the versatile performer captured the excitement of an accelerating fugue by Schumann, tossed off a Hindemith sonata with neat non-sentimentality and made sparks fly in a fiery virtuoso finale by . . . Milos Sokola." (The Plain Dealer) " . . . she always got to the heart of the music." (Los Angeles Times) Through the observations of music critics, we have a picture of some of the recitals she played.

Those who were in her audiences during the course of her 62-year career saw a slender, elegant woman walk "onstage" and instantly communicate a commanding presence. By her demeanor, one knew even before a note was heard, that she was an authority; as she played, the depth and range of her artistry simply confirmed it. Her discipline, her attention to detail and her high intelligence were all part of a persona "programmed" for a successful life and career as performer and teacher. In thinking over the 38 years I knew Catharine, several adjectives come to mind: elegant, shy, witty, hard-working, thoughtful, warm and yet also reserved. She was comfortable with solitude. One did not "buddy up" with Catharine Crozier, yet she had close friendships in her life which she greatly prized.

I have clear memories of Catharine. First meeting her in 1965 during a sweltering summer in New York City, I was struck by how cool and unruffled she was by the heat, how as she taught students whose fingers were nearly sliding off the keys, she seemed unaffected by a similar human malady! In my mid-twenties I had the good fortune to share some delicious and entertaining meals with Catharine, her husband Harold Gleason, and Fred Swann, three people who from my perspective were on towering pedestals. It was the first time I realized that the finest artists tend to also be marvelous people, a truism I have been interested to observe ever since. Although I remained in a certain awe of Catharine all the years I knew her, I came to see her as a human being rather than as someone out of reach.

At the opening of the Tully Hall organ, where she shared the program with E. Power Biggs and Thomas Schippers, I was thrilled by Catharine's performance of the Barber Toccata Festiva, from the moment she walked onstage till the moment she left it. I remember being riveted by her performance at The Riverside Church of "Mary Dyer did hang as a flag" (Ned Rorem's Quaker Reader), as she fiercely portrayed that condemned woman's death. Then, on her 80th birthday she played a dazzling recital (all from memory except for one piece) at the Crystal Cathedral, closing with the Widor "Toccata" as her smashing encore. Considering that she had awakened the morning of the previous day in a swaying 20th-floor hotel room during the 1994 Los Angeles earthquake, her performance was remarkable for its calm ease. She was always so well prepared and confident, that even an earthquake could not shake her performance.

One of my fondest memories is of the time Catharine, my husband Chick Holtkamp and I vacationed at Mohonk Mountain House. She would invite us to her room for sherry in the late afternoon and, beautifully attired, she would join us for dinner. Though she declined to go on strenuous hikes with us or swim in the lake, she treated us to a staid carriage ride, which was pleasantly old-world in its flavor. Her innate sense of formality in such a setting was utterly charming; she had a talent for quiet enjoyment in any place she inhabited.

I recall watching her teach a master class at Eastman during her late 80s, with her mind untouched by age in any negative way, her warmth toward the students genuine, her knowledge of the music complete. She was a total professional to the end of her life. I recall the time when I was astounded at hearing her play a certain wedding processional. When I expressed my amazement that "I never thought I would see the day when Catharine Crozier would play the Wedding March," she in turn surprised me by her retort, "It comes with the job!"

The last ten years of Catharine's life were among her happiest, mainly due to her appointment as Artist-in-Residence at Trinity Cathedral, Portland, Oregon. The high musical standards of Canon John Strege and his superb choir met her own on a happy level. I flew out to Portland on four occasions during her final decade, always dining with her in good restaurants (she had a fine time "researching" restaurants before choosing which ones we would go to) and of course going to church with her. Each time we would attend a service at Trinity Cathedral, she would lean over and quietly say "I just love it here!" The last time I heard her there in recital was the first day of April, 2001. She was, as ever, splendid.

In addition to Catharine Crozier's grace and intelligence, she was possessed of an optimistic nature. She was not immune to sadness, but she had that sturdy Oklahoma constitution that just goes forward in the face of any adversity. Even when she lost one eye in the last years of her life, she said "Well, I just go on." Indeed, after the loss of that eye, she played her 85th birthday recital at First Congregational Church, Los Angeles, to a packed church of admirers. Catharine had a funny story to relate about the eye trouble that caused her to stop driving. She started calling a local taxi company to take her to the cathedral to practice each day, then later back to her apartment. After about a week of this, the drivers stopped asking her destination and automatically took her to one place or the other! She was pleased at being such a celebrity among Portland's taxi drivers!

There are many good stories "out there" about Catharine. Upon her death, I received some touching e-mails from friends and admirers which related to first meeting her, first hearing her play, studying the organ with her, and so on. One man commented on the special quality of light which seemed to infuse her playing during her later years, and he was quite right. In the early part of her career she was well-known for her brilliant technique and effortless playing, but as she grew older she continued to build on that technique, bringing a complete artistry to her mature years. We are fortunate that she recorded several CDs during the last 20 or so years of her life, among them first-rate performances of Rorem and Sowerby. A supporter of the highest possible standards in musical performance, she remains an excellent model for today's young musicians to emulate. She would probably tell them to seek out a fine teacher, develop an infallible technique, practice diligently, learn your repertoire thoroughly, have a firm goal of becoming an artist, behave in a professional manner, and you will have a fine chance for a career. Catharine Crozier lived a full and interesting life. Her innate musical talent, her thoroughness in her work, and her consummate artistry gave us a person who was a living legend in the world of organ music. The immense regard her fellow artists the world over had for her is testimony to her great stature among them. On both a professional and personal level, our loss is deeply felt.  

Remembering Catharine Crozier

by Canon John Strege, Director of Cathedral Music, Trinity Cathedral, Portland, Oregon

Reflecting on Catharine Crozier's involvement at Trinity Cathedral as Artist-in-Residence these past ten years is a remembrance of graciousness, superb artistry, encouragement, and unbridled enthusiasm. When I was notified that Catharine was moving to Portland, the Dean of the Cathedral and I immediately wrote her asking if she would consider becoming Trinity's Artist-in-Residence. In what seemed like only hours, she quickly responded by saying that she would be most pleased to accept this position. So began my relationship with Catharine.

Catharine would practice most afternoons in preparation for occasional Sunday morning voluntaries, organ recitals, and in the first years, her out of town master classes and recitals. As we developed a friendship, I was always humbled by her enthusiasm for the music at Trinity. She embraced the magnificent Rosales organ, the liturgy, the Trinity Choir and Cathedral Chamber Singers, and the loving Trinity community.

In the later years, as we drove together, attended concerts, had lunches and dinners, I was privileged to sample her great sense of humor, her many opinions about legendary organists from the past, her reminiscences of her extraordinary career and life with Harold Gleason, and her timely words of encouragement for my work in the church. When I asked her if she could arrive a few minutes early for one of her practice sessions to hear an organ piece I was preparing, she responded with, "How about this afternoon?" With her generosity, these "brief" coaching sessions could last well over an hour. As I have frequently mentioned to my colleagues, having Catharine Crozier in the congregation on any given Sunday gave a new meaning to the preparation of organ voluntaries for the liturgy.

As Catharine lived out her final decade in our midst, her playing at Trinity evoked an unspeakable transcendence. Her life was lived in the realization of being in the moment, maintaining the integrity of purpose and spirit, and always looking ahead to new challenges and opportunities.

Of the many blessings in my life, I consider the opportunity of being with Catharine one of the greatest. I cherish our friendship and affection we had for each other. Her physical absence is a profound loss, but her spirit, musicianship and grace will remain with me for all time.              

Remembering Catharine Crozier

by Fred Swann

Many of us can identify a person who, by their influence and inspiration, has been paramount in the development of our lives and careers. Catharine Crozier was that person for me.

Although I had read about her and had heard one of her recordings, I didn't meet Catharine until the summer of 1949. I had just finished my freshman year at Northwestern University School of Music when she and her distinguished husband, Harold Gleason, came to teach and to lead a summer church music workshop at the university. I had been playing the organ since age 10 and intended to be "a good church organist," but that summer the Gleasons convinced me to commit to a career as an organist.

Catharine played a recital on the E. M. Skinner organ in St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Evanston as part of the conference. The combination of her incredible performance and that organ, one of Skinner's most remarkable and exceptional instruments, was so overwhelming that on that very evening my standards of musicianship and performance were set in stone for life. I became a Crozier "groupie"--wore out all her recordings as they came out, traveled huge distances to hear her recitals, and tried, pathetically as I look back, to emulate her playing style. In addition to the musical benefits, I was privileged to develop a cherished friendship that has lasted a lifetime.

That same summer I played the Langlais Te Deum for the Gleasons. It was then still new to most American organists, and even they had not heard it. It became one of "her pieces" and she would frequently remark about my bringing it to her attention. Despite her encouragement and interest in having me study with her at Eastman after completing degrees at Northwestern, I felt so inferior and in awe of her that I was terrified to take the Eastman audition. Fearing the humiliation of not being accepted, I chose to study at Union Theological Seminary School of Sacred Music in New York. Mrs. Gleason, as we called her then, became quite cross with me over this, but, as things sometimes happen, the decision to go to New York City turned out to be a fortuitous thing for my career and for our friendship.

Forgive me if I've written too much in attempting to establish the roots of my indebtedness with this wonderful lady and consummate musician. The stories and anecdotes would fill a large book, but here I want to pay homage to my mentor--for although I never formally studied with her, I have never stopped absorbing knowledge and inspiration from her.

You're reading a number of tributes in these pages, and very probably many of them have used the same words in describing Catharine. She could be stern in her expectations from students, but her compassion and humanity never stopped growing throughout her life. She was thoroughly professional and never failed to live up to the highest demands that she made upon herself. She was the personification of elegance in her playing, and just to watch her at the console was a lesson in grace and form. Posture, hand position, economy of movement and a complete involvement in the music all combined for incredible performances. She had a great thirst for continual learning that allowed her music making to remain fresh and vital whether she was playing one of the "old masters" or a contemporary work. She played in perfect style, and with the latest scholarship, everything she chose. She embraced new works of many composers, especially American. Her performances of these works was so compelling that she "sold" them to a profession and to audiences that were usually more ready to accept the latest from France and elsewhere.

A physically attractive woman who carried herself with poise and grace, she was a quiet person--but she never "missed a thing," had a wonderful, dry sense of humor, and an infectious laugh. She could often say more with a look than some people can with many words. She delighted in simple things, like being driven up and down Fifth Avenue in New York to look at all the lights at Christmas time. When young, she enjoyed fine food and fancy restaurants at times, but her own cooking abilities were limited. If she invited you to dinner the invitation often came with the question "Well, would you like the tuna casserole or the other one?"

Dr. Crozier kept performing until about a year before her death. People just wouldn't let her stop. I had to do some real arm twisting to convince her to play recitals on her 75th and 80th birthdays at the Crystal Cathedral, where I was in residence at the time. Each program was stunning despite her misgivings beforehand. When I greeted her as she left the console at the conclusion of her 80th birthday recital, she, having just finished a stellar performance of the Reubke Sonata on the 94th Psalm broke into a wide grin, cocked her head, snapped her fingers, and said "By crackey, I did it!" And she continued to "do it". Despite advancing age and physical handicaps that would cause most people to quit, she finally agreed after much cajoling to come to First Congregational in Los Angeles to play a recital on her 85th birthday--and what a wonderful time we had! Friends had come from literally around the country and even some from Europe. After that she slowed down gradually but still played Vesper recitals at Trinity Cathedral in Portland, Oregon, on the great Rosales organ she loved and recorded on so magnificently.

Because of the wonderful friendships with the cathedral staff, especially Canon John Strege and Kevin Walsh, and the loving care she was given, she almost reached her 90th birthday in a very content existence. When a handful of us gathered near the organ console in early October for a private service of blessing and commitment of her ashes, there were tears and sadness--but also enormous thanksgiving for a life that brought so much joy and inspiration to untold thousands of people over her long and distinguished career. Her influence will live on for many generations to come.  She is now at peace.  May light perpetual shine upon her.      

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Nunc Dimittis

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Catharine Crozier
died on Friday, September 19, 2003 in Portland, Oregon, at the age of 89. The
cause of death was a severe stroke with complications from pneumonia.

Catharine Crozier was born in Oklahoma, where she began to
study the violin, piano and organ at an early age, making her first appearance
as a pianist at the age of six. She was awarded a scholarship to the Eastman
School of Music in Rochester, New York, where she studied organ with Harold
Gleason and graduated with the Bachelor of Music degree and the
Performer's Certificate. As a graduate student, Ms. Crozier received the
Artist's Diploma and the Master of Music degree. In 1939 she was
appointed to the organ faculty of the Eastman School of Music and became head
of the organ department in 1953. Ms. Crozier received the following honorary
degrees: Doctor of Music, from Smith College, Baldwin-Wallace College, and the
University of Southern Colorado; the Doctor of Humane Letters from Illinois
College, and in October, 2000, the Doctor of Musical Arts from the Eastman
School of Music, University of Rochester.

Following her debut at the Washington National Cathedral,
Washington, DC, in 1941, Catharine Crozier joined the roster of the Bernard
LaBerge Concert Management (currently Karen McFarlane Artists, Inc.) with which
she remained for 61 years. Dr. Crozier played recitals throughout the United
States, Canada and Europe, and was heard on national radio in many European
countries, the United States, and on Danish National Television. She was one of
three organists chosen to play the inaugural organ recital at Avery Fisher Hall
at Lincoln Center in 1962, and was engaged for a solo recital there in 1964.
She returned to Lincoln Center to perform a concerto with orchestra at the
inauguration of the Kuhn organ in Alice Tully Hall in 1976, followed by a solo
recital there one year later. In 1979 she was awarded the International
Performer of the Year Award by the New York City AGO chapter, presented to her
by Alice Tully at the conclusion of Crozier's award recital at Alice
Tully Hall. Shortly after this event, she recorded many of the pieces from that
recital for Gothic Records.

From 1955 to 1969 Dr. Crozier was organist of Knowles
Memorial Chapel at Rollins College in Florida. She conducted master classes
throughout the United States, teaching at Union Theological Seminary in New
York, the Andover Organ Institute, at Claremont College and Stanford University
in California, and Northwestern University. In addition she served as a member
of the jury at many international organ competitions, the latest being the 1994
Calgary International Organ Festival.

In addition to performing and teaching, Dr. Crozier
co-edited several editions of the Method of Organ Playing
style='font-style:normal'>, written by her husband, Harold Gleason. The first
edition of the Gleason book appeared in 1937. Following the death of Dr.
Gleason, Catharine Crozier edited the seventh edition (1987) and the eighth
edition (1995).

In 1993 Catharine Crozier moved to Portland, Oregon, where
she was artist-in-residence at Trinity Cathedral until early 2003. As
artist-in-residence, she frequently played organ voluntaries at services, gave
solo recitals and continued to teach. Her recent performances were broadcast
over Oregon Public Radio and in 2001 she was a featured artist on Oregon Public
Television's "Oregon Art Beat." Known for her definitive
playing of organ works of Ned Rorem and Leo Sowerby, two of the five Delos
International CDs she made during the last twenty years of her life included
the major organ works of these two composers.

On Dr. Crozier's 75th and 80th birthdays, she
performed solo recitals from memory at The Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove,
California; her 85th birthday recital was played at The First Congregational
Church of Los Angeles. Recently, the American Guild of Organists began to
compile a video archive series of great organists; Catharine Crozier was the
subject of The Master Series, Vol. I,
which shows her performing and teaching in her 86th year.

A memorial service/concert and reception will be held on
January 26, 2004, at Trinity Cathedral in Portland, Oregon, with the Trinity
Cathedral Choir (John Strege, director) and organists David Higgs and Frederick
Swann. Memorial donations may be sent to: Music Endowment Fund, Trinity
Cathedral, 147 NW 19th Avenue, Portland, OR 97209.

Morris Chester Queen
died on August 3. Born on September 30, 1921, he grew up in Baltimore,
Maryland, where he began music study at age 7. He became musically active at
Mt. Zion Methodist Episcopal Church, where he and his family worshipped, and
played piano and organ for the church, sang tenor in the Senior Choir, and
directed the youth choir at age 17. During World War II, he served in the U.S.
Navy, where he directed the Great Lakes Naval Octet. In 1947 he was appointed
music director at Sharp Street Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church, Baltimore,
where he would serve for 55 years. That same year he entered Howard University,
where he received both the bachelor of music and bachelor of music education
degrees. In 1955, he received the master of music degree in composition and
choral conducting from Howard University. In addition to his church post, he
also founded and conducted the Morris Queen Chorale and taught at Lemmel Junior
High School and then at Walbrook Senior High School. He also directed the
Baltimore Chapel Choir, including more than 20 performances of Handel's
Messiah. During his tenure at Sharp Street Church, he served under 11 pastors
and missed only one Sunday in 55 years. On May 6, 2002, he was awarded the
Honorary Doctor of Sacred Music by the Richmond, Virginia Seminary. He is
survived by his wife, Ovella Queen, nieces, nephews, cousins, and a host of
other relatives and friends. A memorial service was held on August 9 at Sharp
Street Memorial United Methodist Church, Baltimore.

Remembering Bethel Knoche (1919-2003)

Bethel D. Knoche, 83, the first person to serve as principal
organist at the world headquarters of the Community of Christ (formerly,
Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) in Independence,
Missouri, died on April 27, 2003, at her home in Independence following a long
illness. During her service to the world church, which was a period of nearly
thirty years, Bethel's ministry reached literally thousands of people
internationally, initially as organist for the church's radio broadcast
of daily morning devotions from the Stone Church and subsequently during her
years presiding at the Auditorium Organ as a participant in worship at world
conferences, recitalist, workshop leader and teacher, and as originator of the
weekly broadcast recital, "The Auditorium Organ."

A native of Arcadia, Kansas, she moved with her family to
Independence when she was eight. Following graduation from William Chrisman
High School, Bethel attended Graceland College for a year and then returned to
Independence, whereupon she began her service with the world church. In
addition to her radio work, her responsibilities included playing for many
church services, accompanying various choirs at the Stone Church, as well as
providing the organ accompaniment for the church's annual broadcast
performance of Handel's Messiah. During that time she began studying organ
with Powell Weaver, well-known Kansas City organist and composer, and completed
a bachelor of music degree in 1946 from Central Missouri State Teachers
College, Warrensburg, Missouri. She then entered a master's degree
program at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New York, where she was a
student of Harold Gleason for the next six years.

Many area organists began to recognize that there was
something quite special about Bethel's playing, and thus her career as a
teacher began. In addition to her serving on the faculties of Graceland and at
Warrensburg, she joined the faculty of the newly-formed, but short-lived,
Independence branch of the Kansas City Conservatory of Music. She also served a
number of years as an adjunct instructor of organ at the University of Missouri-Kansas
City's Conservatory of Music, where she taught degree-seeking students at
the bachelor's, master's and doctoral levels. Following her tenure
at the Auditorium, Bethel continued to influence the lives of hundreds of children
by teaching elementary music in the Raytown, Missouri public school system
until her retirement.

In the 1940s Bethel was in a position to share the dreams
and aspirations of the church leadership of having a fine pipe organ in the
world headquarters building, which at the time was a large incomplete domed
shell. It was her association with Harold Gleason and his famous wife, organ
virtuoso Catharine Crozier, that culminated in the design and installation of
the Aeolian-Skinner organ in the Auditorium, completed in 1959, which at the
time was the largest free-standing organ in the United States. Dr. Gleason
served as organ consultant for the church, Ms. Crozier played the inaugural
recital in November 1959, and Bethel was at the organ for its dedication during
the church's world conference in April 1960.

The arrival of the organ, which was considered by many
(including Aeolian-Skinner's president, Joseph Whiteford) to be
Aeolian-Skinner's masterpiece, heralded a new era in the musical life of
the community as well as the church. From the very beginning, Bethel invited
many distinguished guest musicians from all over the United States and abroad
to perform in Independence, a tradition which continues to the present day. Not
only has the Auditorium Organ been a superb instrument for performing great
organ literature, it was designed to possess in abundance the necessary
qualities for encouraging a vast congregation to sing. A congregational hymn
with Bethel Knoche at the Auditorium Organ was a truly inspiring moment for all
present. The organ also provided a new outlet for the church's
longstanding commitment to radio ministry and eventually became one of the most
frequently heard organs on the air. "The Auditorium Organ," a
program heard for more than thirty years, originated as a 30-minute recital
featuring Bethel Knoche and broadcast weekly over an international network. The
organ also set a new standard of excellence against which all future organs in
the Midwest would be measured, and Bethel provided invaluable assistance to countless
congregations in their selection and purchase of new organs.

Sensing the need to have many people prepared to play the
new organ on a regular basis, Bethel assembled and trained a small, but very
dedicated, corps of volunteer organists to share the playing responsibilities
at the many events that would be taking place in the Auditorium. In addition to
the many services that occur in conjunction with the church's biennial
world conference, a daily listening period was instituted, for which the organ staff
would provide invaluable assistance, enabling countless visitors to the
building to experience the beauty and power of the splendid new organ. The
daily recitals have continued to the present day (daily during the summer and
weekly throughout the rest of the year), made possible by a volunteer staff
that now comprises thirty-five gifted musicians.

Bethel is survived by her husband of fifty-six years, Joseph
T. Knoche; her daughter, Anne McCracken of Jackson, Tennessee; her son, Joseph
K. Knoche of Independence; her sister, Shirley Elliott of Fremont, Nebraska;
five grandchildren; seven great-grandchildren, and a host of former students,
friends and admirers from all over the world. Plans are now being formulated
for an appropriate world church commemoration of the life and ministry of
Bethel Knoche.

--Rodney Giles

Ft. Lauderdale, FL and Cherry Grove,NY

Past Dean, Greater Kansas City AGO

Marilyn Mason: 80th Birthday Tributes

by Gordon Atkinson, William Bolcom, Phillip Burgess, James Hammann, Michele Johns, James Kibbie, Gal
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Marilyn Mason celebrates her 80th birthday on June 29. She was born in Alva, Oklahoma, on June 29, 1925. Dr. Mason is University Organist, Professor of Music, and Chairman of the Organ Department at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Her affiliation with Michigan began in 1944 as a pupil of Palmer Christian, and she later completed the MMus degree at Michigan. She spent time in France, where she studied under Nadia Boulanger (analysis) and Maurice Durufl? (organ), and in 1954 she earned the Doctor of Sacred Music degree at Union Theological Seminary in New York.
As an undergraduate, she was awarded the Stanley Medal, the highest award given to any music major. Later, in her teaching career, her colleagues presented her with the Distinguished Faculty Award, and music alumni awarded her the first Citation of Merit. During her time at Michigan, annual summer and fall Conferences on Organ Music have become regular highlights. She has led more than 50 historic organ tours abroad, and the Marilyn Mason Organ was created in a specifically designed recital hall in the School of Music. The organ, built by C. B. Fisk, is a replica in the spirit of the instruments of Gottfried Silbermann.Marilyn Mason has made a lasting impact in her distinguished career as concert organist, teacher, lecturer, adjudicator, consultant, recording artist, and by the nearly 75 organ works she has commissioned. Dr. Mason has performed on every continent, save Antarctica. She was the first American woman to play in Westminster Abbey, the first woman organist to play in Latin America, and the first American to play in Egypt. She has served as judge at nearly every major organ competition in the world. Her dedication to contemporary organ music is evidenced by the names of prominent composers who have written for her: Albright, Bolcom, Cook, Cowell, Creston, Diemer, Haines, Jackson, Johnson, Jordan, Krenek, Langlais, Lockwood, Near, Persichetti, Sowerby, Wyton, Young, and others. In 1987, Dr. Mason was awarded the degree Doctor of Music honoris causa from the University of Nebraska. In 1988 she was chosen as Performer of the Year by the New York City chapter of the American Guild of Organists.We join the contributors below in wishing Dr. Mason a most happy birthday.
?Jerome Butera

The gift of friendship

The time: July or August, 1957; the occasion: TheInternational Congress of Organists; the place: Westminster Abbey, London.

The Royal College of Organists hosted a meeting of organistsfrom around the world, with soloists from the American Guild of Organists, theRoyal Canadian College of Organists and the RCO. Many distinguished playerswere heard, and the recital by Marilyn Mason was greatly anticipated. Theprogram included Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for organ and orchestra conducted by the composer.The stylish and polished performance by Dr. Mason, exemplary in every way, wasa highlight, her playing all the more telling as the abbey organ at that timehad only one general piston.

Later in the week at a garden party on the abbey grounds,heavy rain sent delegates running for shelter, and it was in the safety of thecloisters that I first spoke with Dr. Mason--and I was immediately awareof her warmth and interest towards a recently graduated organ student.

I had no thought of leaving England, but in the followingyear I accepted a church appointment in Canada. In 1959 Dr. Mason played aprogram at Metropolitan United Church, London, Ontario, which included theRoger-Ducasse Pastorale, a piece she hadmade her own, and the much underplayed Suite of Paul Creston that she had commissioned.Afterwards, in the line of listeners to say ?thank you,? Dr. Masonsaid, ?I remember you, where?? ?Running from the rain atWestminster Abbey.?

The University Organ Conference became a yearly fixture forme following the first in 1962 with Anton Heiller as the featured player. Whocould forget his lecture-recital on Orgelbüchlein?  Overthe years many European and North American organists made great contributionswith their lectures, demonstrations and performances.

Having played hundreds of recitals throughout the world,taught and encouraged hundreds of pupils in almost 60 years at the Universityof Michigan, Marilyn?s ability for friendship is one thing that sets herapart. Her legendary technique, her ability to get to the core of the music, isalmost superseded by her rare gift of friendship.

The 50 U-M trips to historic organs of Europe, eye and earopeners, are arranged so that members can hear the 18th-century north Germanorgan builders, those of the south, or the wonders of France from the Clicquotsto the Cavaillé-Colls. Doors are opened, organs made available, becauseof Dr. Mason?s reputation and her extensive network of players in theorgan world.

As a former student I say thank you, Marilyn, for yourinspiring teaching, the many walks through the ?Arb? (AnnArbor?s Arboretum) to the School of Music, the innumerable meals andconversations, your delightful sense of humor, your love of poetry and analmost  lifelong friendship.

Many are in awe of Dr. Mason?s musicianship,championing and commissioning of music for our instrument. I appreciate hercare and concern for all people she meets.

--Gordon Atkinson

At the time he left England, Gordon Atkinson was organist atSt. John the Baptist Church, Holland Road, Kensington, London, where among hispredecessors were Healey Willan and William Harris. A former president of theRCCO, Dr. Atkinson now lives in Melbourne, Australia.

Gospel Preludes

This past century has seen an enormous growth in challengingnew organ music, and one of the most influential virtuosi and proponents of neworgan music is Marilyn Mason. She has encouraged so much new music from so manycomposers, and I especially thank her for her extensive performances andinsightful teaching of my own music. She has commissioned several of my mostimportant organ works and has always championed them, and this is precious to acomposer--maybe the work will have a life! But no work has a life withoutthe right performance, and her doing the right performance for me and so manyothers, long dead and still living, is what makes Marilyn Mason so extremelyspecial.

--William Bolcom

Ross Lee Finney Distinguished University Professor of Music,The University of Michigan

A student for life

Once you have studied with Marilyn Mason, you study with herfor life. Yes, you may graduate, but you are never far from her constantguidance and care. During my years with her, I found that in one breath shecould correct my articulation and registration and also inquire if my checkbookwas balanced. Never overly critical, she could find ways to correct andencourage at the same time. And her analogies were priceless. Once afterplaying a particular piece, she thought for a moment and said to me,?hearing you play that piece like that reminds me of someone trying toeat peas with a knife.? Dr. Mason is a tireless teacher dedicated to theentire well-being of her students. As other students can attest, she insistedthat each of us have a church position. For her, a learning experience is notsufficient without a practical application. And you earn money. How convenient!

Dr. Mason also insisted that all of her students be able tocook. Although I never mastered the art, Saturday mornings were dedicated tobread baking in her Ann Arbor home, and her famous baguettes accompanied nearlyevery meal. Her equally famous ?green punch? was a fixture atnearly every reception or party! While not always green, the punch was seldomwithout its admirers.

Traveling remains an important part of Dr. Mason?slife. Her organ tours, numbering over fifty at this point, have exposed many tothe famous organs of the world. On each tour, a mix of music aficionados andstudents embark upon a life-changing experience. Through her generosity, manystudents are able to receive scholarships to help them defray the cost of thesetours, a benefit not lost on many. As a student, I traveled on five tours. Itis one thing to read about the organs of Spain, France, and Italy and be toldwhat they sound like. But to actually play and spend time on the instruments isquite another matter. As any tour member can tell you, Dr. Mason knows thatwherever you travel in the world, the most important person is the man with thekey! Once while in Rome, I found myself on the bench at St. Peter?s.Being told by the organist that we had only a little time, each of us rotatedon and off the bench while Dr. Mason kept the keeper of the key distracted.Playing last, I was quite prepared to finish my pieces and leave. Turning to mefrom a distance away, she told me to play ?longer and slower . . . theycan?t kick us off the bench while the music is going.?

As many of us have experienced over the years, I have foundProf. Mason to be a completely approachable and unselfish person. In constantcommunication with students and colleagues, whether through her famoustypewriter or e-mail, any problem musically or otherwise is given thoughtfulconsideration. As a ?second? mother and extension of my family, sheoften invited us into her home for holidays and special events. During times ofillness and strife, her home or studio was often filled with moments of prayeror words of encouragement. 

As Prof. Mason approaches this milestone in her life andcareer, I see no sign that she is slowing down. Indeed, following her for a daywill leave you intellectually challenged and mentally and physically exhausted.I could go on and on recounting our times together, but instead I will simplyclose with her most famous quote. ?Remember students, your performanceisn?t over until you are in the parking lot.? Dr. Mason, pleaseremember that as well, and God bless you for another eighty years.

--Phillip Burgess

Phillip Burgess holds MM and DMA degrees from the Universityof Michigan, and is currently organist/choirmaster of St. Luke?sEpiscopal Church in Salisbury, North Carolina.

Marilyn?s maxims

One is not around Marilyn Mason for long before it becomesapparent that one is in the presence of a walking ?Poor Richard?sAlmanac.? Just as Ben Franklin filled the minds and hearts of colonialAmericans with short pithy phrases that helped them cope with the practicalrealities of life on the frontier, Marilyn has helped several generations oforgan students navigate the treacheries of left hand and pedal, church musiccommittees, and the beginnings of musical careers with similar phrases for boththe particular and the universal.

When our concentration flagged during a long fugue we werereminded that, ?The performance is not over until you are in the parkinglot.? When we were pondering career options and had not put forth theeffort of sending out that additional résumé we heard, ?Youcan?t accept a position you haven?t applied for.? In themiddle of a long project, or when our devotion to duty wavered, Nadia Boulangerwas quoted: ?You must do your little bit each day.? Marilyn tellswith relish the story of an admirer who gushed in a receiving line after one ofher recitals, ?You are so lucky to play so well.? Her reply was,?Yes, the more I practice, the luckier I get!? 

Some of the sayings have universal application.?Timing is everything? works for the shaping of sonata allegro form, knowing when to make thatrecommendation call to the chairperson of a search committee, or when it istime for a joke during a tedious meeting.

Then there is the short ejaculation,  ?How convenient!? Thisphrase was quickly adopted after it was uttered by an organist demonstratinghow to change stops on a Rückpositiv where the knobs were located on thecase behind the organ bench. The organist twisted herself into a pretzel andexclaimed ?See how convenient these are.? The irony and humor werenot lost, and this two-word phrase now highlights most any situation, just asan ?Amen? can be used after a prayer of thanksgiving, supplication,or devotion.

Well, Marilyn, timing may be everything, but somehow timejust doesn?t seem to apply to you. For one thing,  time stands still when we are aroundyou. Your constant activity, love of life,  infectious enthusiasm and devotion to the world of music ingeneral and the pipe organ in particular keep us entranced. Fifteen years aftermost people retire you have just produced another recording, premiered a newwork in New York and Paris, and are preparing for another historic organ tour.This is all in addition to your normal duties as professor of organ andchairman of the department. Just as Ben urged his fellow citizens to create agreat country by improving themselves, we are reminded to do the same by yourexample, your devotion,  your loveand care for us, and all of those maxims. HOW CONVENIENT!!!

--James Hammann

James Hammann teaches organ and theory at the University ofNew Orleans. He is director of music for The Chapel of the Holy Comforter, andruns his own maintenance business for pipe organs in the New Orleans area. Heearned the DMA in organ and church music from The University of Michigan in1987, where Marilyn Mason was his primary teacher.

A lady of firsts

The first American woman to play organ in Westminster Abbey(900th anniversary of the abbey).

The first woman to play organ concerts on five continents inone year.

Her reputation for innovation, learning, and sharing throughteaching traverses the world. She refreshes the art of organ playing throughthese excellent traits. As an example to her students she is alwaysregenerating herself with new ideas and new ways to learn.

I have been privileged to study with Marilyn Mason throughtwo advanced degrees during a particularly creative and innovative time in thehistory of American organ-playing: the so-called Early Music Revival. (Severalyears earlier, I had made her acquaintance during the founding of the Ann ArborAGO chapter.) During this time of revival, Marilyn organized the University ofMichigan Summer Keyboard Institute (now celebrating its 25th year), whichfeatured the venerable Peter Williams--author, performer, and innovativethinker. Due to his great mind among us, we always left the Institute with morequestions than answers! Also at this time, Dr. Mason won for herself auniversity grant to study organ-building in Europe. Thus, Professor JamesKibbie and I, as graduate students, were privileged to be her researchassistants visiting organbuilding shops and major instruments of more than adozen builders in Germany, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Denmark.During these travels we personally witnessed her seemingly limitless capacityfor learning and refreshing her thinking. This single event was the start ofthe famous Historic Organ Tours, the 50th of which she recently completed. Whata way to learn about historic organ performance practice. The instruments arethe great teachers!

Impressive accomplishments for Dr. Mason, but let?slook some decades earlier. Marilyn Mason had played many of these instrumentsin the early years after World War II. She knew the importance of studyingoriginal instruments and European musical thinking. Thus the annual U-MConference on Organ Music was born in 1960 and has flourished ever since. Theconference has always featured European artists who  performed and spoke about the music of their particularcountry. Along with these visiting artists came Lowell Riley, an American whohad spent years photographing European organs and who brought to us dazzlingslide shows of great masterpieces of organbuilding.

MARILYN MASON: fresh-thinking, Energizer-Bunny energetic,humor-filled, highly spiritual, and totally committed to teaching students ofall ages.

Innovations

* performing the Alain Trois Dances with a troupe of U-M dance majors

* performing the Dupré Chemin de la Croix with narration of the famous poem by Paul Claudel andaccompanied by a PowerPoint presentation of great works of art depicting theStations of the Cross

* performing the complete organ works of J. S. Bachthree times in 1985 accompanied by slides of the actual music being played.

Quotes

?I always love a meal that someone else hascooked!?

?Your recital isn?t over until you are in theparking lot.?

?I was once introduced as Marilyn Monroe.?

?See if you can get somewhere near the rightnotes.?

?When you study with Dr. Mason you have to learn tochop veggies.?

Seen and heard

Baking French bread, stacking it in the basket on herbicycle and riding around to give fresh bread to neighbor friends.

Attending Bible study sessions in the neighborhood.

Talking her way through customs after visiting France,trying to explain that those plastic bags in her suitcase were not marijuanabut herbes de Provence.

Her famous ?Joke Book? which was stolen atRiverside Church one day.

My all time personal favorite

Professor Kibbie and I were tape recording in a Europeanchurch and asked Marilyn to run the tape recorder. She was confused: turn thetape over and then rewind or the other way around? Things didn?t work outcorrectly and we lost some of our research. I tried to cheer her up, saying:?Dr. Mason, you were a Phi Beta Kappa, remember?? She apologizedquietly and said, ?It was a low moment. They were taking everyone!?

--Michele Johns

Dr. Michele Johns is adjunct Associate Professor of Music,the University of Michigan School of Music.

The same as ever

Recently, the University of Michigan?s cable TVchannel rebroadcast an interview with Marilyn Mason first televised in 1977.The interviewer?s long hair, wide collar and bell-bottomed trousers aredated, but Marilyn looks remarkably as she does today. She demonstrates theorgans in her studio and Hill Auditorium with masterworks of the repertoireplayed from memory and talks of her love for the instrument and its repertoire,including the new music she has commissioned.

People around the country often ask, ?How is MarilynMason?? The answer is, ?The same as ever,? as that oldvideotape demonstrates. After more than 50 years on the faculty of theUniversity of Michigan, she is still as active and engaged as ever, performing,teaching, leading organ tours, confidently spinning off new ideas, championingour students, and promoting her vision for our profession.

Birthdays can sometimes be an occasion to reminisce, butMarilyn herself doesn?t often engage in that sort of retrospection.She?s far too busy making new plans and promoting new projects. So forMarilyn?s many friends and former students, perhaps I can suggest someother appropriate ways to observe her birthday:

* Attend one of her concerts (easy to do, since sheplays almost everywhere)

* Buy another of her recordings (a new one has justbeen released)

* Play for one of her masterclasses

* Go on a U of M Historic Organ Tour

* Perform a new work for organ, or better yet,commission one

* Attend the U of M Organ Conference or SummerInstitute

* Make a donation to the Marilyn Mason ScholarshipFund at the University of Michigan

* Tell a joke

* Raise a glass.

Like many other former students of Marilyn Mason, I claimher as one of the most important people in my life. I look forward to many moreyears to enjoy her as mentor, colleague and loyal friend.

--James Kibbie

Professor of Organ

The University of Michigan School of Music

Joie de vivre

On the occasion of her 80th birthday,  all best wishes  to an energetic, enthusiastic andremarkable lady and teacher!

When I came to Ann Arbor 37 years ago to study organ,Marilyn?s sons were small enough to crawl behind the sofa when studentscame to her house. Now my grandson is crawling behind the furniture and Marilynis still entertaining students. The years have passed but her vitality andwonderful energy remain. Her jokes have changed but her joie de vivre has not.Longevity alone, if that were all there was to it, has allowed her to affectthe musical careers of hundreds of students, from the United States toSingapore!

But there is more to her endurance than longevity. Her ownprofessional development has never stopped. Marilyn has always kept up with thetimes. Her teaching reflects the traditions of Palmer Christian and JeanLanglais, but it has followed as well the trends of Bach playing through thedetaché 1980s and it has included the revived understanding of classicFrench organ style that made alternatim and Grands Jeux household words amongher students.

Presentation is everything, she has said, in music and infood. What she taught us about stage presence she modeled for us inface-to-face presence. A very few enthusiastic words in a foreign languagecoupled with her smile have opened doors of understanding with guests both hereand abroad.

Good health and a healthy appetite go hand in hand with herlove of life. For years the teacher who explained the grand manner of theFrench tradition rode to work on her bicycle. Travelers on her University ofMichigan historical organ tours will remember her legendary ability to catch ashort nap on the back seat of the bus and to rise refreshed and ready to climbto the next organ loft. The anticipation of the sound of a Cavaillé-Collorgan is always matched by the joy of savoring a great wine and a cassoulet deProvence.

Let?s see--endearing, entertaining, energetic,enthusiastic, enduring--I shouldn?t forget e-mail. Possibly herfavorite mode of communication enables her to stay in touch with students oftoday and yesterday and with traveling companions from more than 25 years ofEuropean tours. I?ll be sending a birthday greeting to her e-mail addressand I know it will be answered promptly and with  enthusiasm!

--Gale Kramer

Metropolitan Methodist Church, Detroit

New recording

For several decades, Marilyn Mason has enjoyed a singularlydistinguished and influential career as a recitalist and teacher, which hastaken her to major venues throughout the world. No other organist has been asactive as Dr. Mason in commissioning and promoting new music.

Her latest CD, Paul Freeman Introduces Marilyn Mason, consists of three 20th-century organ concertos andthe  William Bolcom?s GospelPreludes, Book Four. Assisting Dr. Mason isthe first-rate Czech National Symphony Orchestra under the able leadership ofthe American conductor Paul Freeman.

The three concertos were recently recorded in Prague?sDvorák Hall in the Rudolfinum on the 1975 Ceskoslovenske hudebninastroje organ, the first four-manual organ in the Czech Republic built withmechanical key action. The concertos include Emma Lou Diemer?s Concertoin One Movement for Organ and Chamber Orchestra (?Alaska?), which was premiered in 1996 at the Universityof Alaska with the composer as soloist. For this reviewer, the main interestlies primarily in the rhythmic vitality and divergent musical references toEskimo, Hassler and Hebrew themes.

Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for Organ andStrings (1949) was played at the 1957International Congress of Organists in London at Westminster Abbey with Dr.Sowerby conducting and Dr. Mason at the Harrison & Harrison 1937instrument. (Mason, along with David Craighead and the late Robert Baker,represented the United States at the congress.) In this sprightlythree-movement work, Sowerby brings the classic form of the concertoharmonically into the 20th century, and certainly with it, romantic overtones.After a half-century it still wears well.

One of the Czech Republic?s leading composers, PetrEben, is represented by the 1982 Organ Concerto No. 2, a work in two sections. Technical demands are madeon the performer to successfully bring off this work; Dr. Mason does it withher usual aplomb.

The Bolcom Three Gospel Preludes are played on New York City?s RiversideChurch?s justifiably acclaimed 216-rank Aeolian-Skinner-Adams-Bufanoinstrument. The three preludes are based on the hymn tunes ?Sometimes IFeel Like a Motherless Child,? ?Sweet Hour of Prayer,? and?O Zion Haste? and ?How Firm a Foundation.? Theseskillfully crafted works, which are performed with great sensitivity by Mason,were recorded in 2003 and produced by Michael Barone for Minnesota PublicRadio?s Pipedreamsbroadcasts.

The CD is available for $15.98 (plus shipping) from theOrgan Historical Society; 804/353-9226;

<www.ohscatalog.org&gt;.

--Robert M. Speed

Robert M. Speed is Professor of the Humanities Emeritus,Grand View College, Des Moines, Iowa.

A tribute to a beloved icon on her 80th birthday

?Set dates come.? This was one of the manywatchwords for life that I learned from my mentor, Dr. Marilyn Mason, all thoseyears ago. On June 29 another wonderful ?set date? willarrive--her 80th birthday, and what a joyous occasion for exuberantcelebration! Of course, those of us who know and love Marilyn are keenly awarethat this legendary lady is totally and completely ageless--that at eightyshe possesses more energy and wit and mental acuity than most forty-somethingscould ever dream of having. Her incredibly successful career continues at fullthrottle. Students from around the world still flock to her door, and they arerewarded with unsurpassed educational, musical and personal experiences thatwill sustain and empower them throughout their careers and lives. Attending oneof her performances or master classes, traveling on her fabulous historic organtours or just spending an hour visiting with Marilyn Mason today is still asinspiring and energizing today as forty years ago. 

Wonderful memories engulf me as I anticipate this special?set date.? A host of Marilyn Mason axioms resurface: ?setdates come; it?s those thin pieces that are hardest; the performanceisn?t over until you?re in the parking lot; the most importantthing is how well you know the music; miss one day of practice and you cantell, two days and your friends can tell, miss three and your entire audiencecan tell; never pass up a chance to visit a restroom,? and countlessothers.

I remember prayers just before going onstage, rolls ofpeppermint Lifesavers backstage at intermission to provide an energy boost forthe second half, and her omnipresent encouragement and support. I rememberstudio classes when, if we urged persistently and strongly enough, Marilynwould sit down and whip off flawless performances of the Alain Dances, theSchoenberg Variations and the Bach D-Major, all at one sitting, by memory, withtotal ease. I remember the historic organ tours, the group recitals in Europe,the joy of being students under Marilyn?s wing again. I remember howMarilyn invited my husband and me to her home for prayers and shared tears overbreakfast when we learned that our dear friend and colleague, Carol Teti, wasdying. I remember the warm hospitality of delicious meals and cozy eveningsspent in Marilyn?s home . . . and always I remember the laughter--thenever-ending supply of wonderful jokes and hilarious true stories she hascollected during a lifetime of optimism and joyous adventure. New generationsof student scholars continue to reap this bounty every year.    

I am Marilyn Mason?s student, and I will always be herstudent; anyone who is privileged to work under Marilyn?s tutelageremains her student for life. Marilyn Mason?s musicianship isunparalleled, her scholarship and intellect are impeccable, and the breadth anddepth of her experiences are endless. However, even more priceless than allthese gifts combined is the example that she sets in every aspect of herprofessional and personal life. Every day of Marilyn?s life is aninspirational example of all that she teaches. She works harder and more energeticallythan most of her students can possibly manage; she demands even more of herselfmusically and personally than the high standards she sets for her students; sheinspires her students to do even better than their best, because she alwaysdoes her best. Marilyn is deeply religious, but instead of preaching, shedemonstrates her faith through her example of flawless ethics and morality, herselfless dedication to service and her genuine respect, tolerance and affectionfor all whose lives she touches. These long years later--after all themusical knowledge and skill, all the professional opportunities, all theteaching methods, performance techniques and tricks-of-the-trade that haveserved me so well throughout my teaching and performing career--it?sthe example that Marilyn sets that has been her greatest gift of all to me. Iam humbled and deeply grateful for the privilege of having studied with MarilynMason, for having my own students go on to earn doctoral degrees with her, andespecially for the honor of calling her my friend.

Happy 80th birthday, Marilyn! Please continue sharing yourimmeasurable gifts and boundless energy with students at The University ofMichigan and with your loyal admirers throughout the world for manyyears--through many ?set dates? to come. I hope I receive thespecial honor of being asked to write a message to you again on your 90th.

--Mary Ida Yost

Mary Ida Yost is Professor Emerita of Music at EasternMichigan University. She received the Master of Music degree at The University ofMichigan in 1964 and the Doctor of Musical Arts degree in 1970, both as astudent of Marilyn Mason.

&R?

Memorial service for Catharine Crozier Gleason

Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, Portland, Oregon

Lee Garrett

Lee Garrett is professor of music at Lewis & Clark College.

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Portland’s historic Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, where Catharine Crozier was Artist-in-Residence from 1992 until her death, was the site for a profoundly beautiful memorial service on January 26, 2004. The Trinity Choir, under the direction of Canon John Strege, provided canticles and anthems, and David Higgs and Fred Swann provided organ voluntaries. [See the obituary for Catharine Crozier (January 18, 1914-September 19, 2003), “Nunc Dimittis,” November 2003, page 10; see also “In Memoriam Catharine Crozier--Tributes by Thomas Harmon, Karen McFarlane, John Strege, and Frederick Swann,” December 2003, pages 21-23.]

Mr. Higgs, chair of the organ department at The Eastman School of Music, with which Miss Crozier and her late husband, Harold Gleason, had such a long affiliation, began the service with a stately reading of Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, followed by Song of Peace, by Jean Langlais. The Entrance Rite had the Trinity Choir process to a slow cadence of two handbells, as the cantor intoned the words “I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord,” concluding with “Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s.” Following the Salutation and Collect for the Dead, all joined to sing a favorite hymn of Miss Crozier’s, “Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,” to the tune Slane.

Lee Garrett, professor of music at Lewis & Clark College, then read from Revelation 21:2-7, and the choir responded with the exultant Magnificat in D, by Leo Sowerby, with whom the Gleasons had maintained a close friendship. Mr. Swann, a former student of both Harold Gleason and Catharine Crozier, provided an authoritative organ accompaniment, as well as some personal reflections in subsequent remarks reminding us of Ms. Crozier’s high standards and impenetrable poise.

The playful first movement of Paul Hindemith’s second sonata was the first of three voluntaries then played by David Higgs. Ned Rorem, one of Miss Crozier’s many composer/admirers, was represented by the warm and reflective “There is a spirit” (from A Quaker Reader), and the first movement of Mendelssohn’s first sonata concluded the offering. All were reminders, in sound and style, of Miss Crozier’s immense musicianship and influence.

Karen McFarlane, for many years Miss Crozier’s personal representative, spoke eloquently of her stature spanning over fifty years, and shared comments by organists from throughout the U.S., the U.K. and Europe; their common theme was admiration for Miss Crozier’s consummate musicianship, continuing scholarship, and interest in promoting new music for the organ. Notable as well was an experience common to so many of us: how memorable was the first occasion when we heard Miss Crozier--where it was and what her program included.

Two motets by Ned Rorem were next, his quietly soaring Mercy and truth are met (Psalm 85:101-113), and, beautiful in its simplicity, an a cappella setting of the well-known (but sadly anonymous) hymn text, Sing, my soul, his wondrous love.

The Very Reverend William Lupfer, Dean of Trinity Cathedral, spoke on behalf of the cathedral and Catharine’s tenure as Artist-in-Residence, a position created for her through the vision of Canon Strege and then-Dean Anthony Thurston. Dean Lupfer offered prayers and The Commendation, and the choir responded with Sowerby’s exquisite Nunc Dimittis in D. Mr. Swann then played Sowerby’s “Passacaglia” (from his Symphony in G, one of Miss Crozier’s signature pieces), exploring the tonal palette of the Rosales organ--an instrument on which Miss Crozier made one of her last recordings (Things Visible and Invisible), and where she practiced almost daily until the last few months of her life. Following the Blessing and Dismissal, the large congregation rose to sing “Love divine, all loves excelling,” to the tune Hyfrydol, stirringly accompanied by Canon Strege.

The service and its music reflected the high standards for which Catharine Crozier was known throughout the organ world. Her passing was noted in the New York Times, and at a reception following the service, numerous organists from throughout the United States came to pay homage, joining with Trinity parishioners and members of the Portland community who had come to know and admire one of the most remarkable international performing artists of the twentieth century.

Robert Glasgow at 80 (section two of two)

A conversation with Steven Egler

Steven Egler

Steven Egler is Professor of Music at Central Michigan University, Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, where he has been a member of the faculty since 1976. He was a student of Robert Glasgow from 1969 to 1981, during which time he completed the B.M., M.M., and D.M.A. degrees at The University of Michigan. Egler is also Councillor for Region V of the AGO.

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SE: Please comment about the Gleasons, their teaching, and working with both of them.

RG: They’re both gone now. Harold way back [1980] and Catharine more recently [2003].

SE: How did they compare as teachers?

RG: Quite different from one another. She was very exacting. He was, too, but he was older--a generation older. I didn’t study with her except for some special repertoire. He would suggest that I take a particular piece to Mrs. Gleason that she’d been playing, so I could see what she had to say about it. That was interesting. I studied with Catharine for the whole summer after I had already finished the degree.

But Harold was somebody with a certain presence, because there was a wonderful human mind, sense of humor, and many, many years of experience--and not just in organ. In fact, some of his instructions would be to listen to some orchestral piece because it had something to do with what I was working on; so I did exactly as he told me to do. He had studio class every week--small class, five students.

Catharine’s main influence was in her playing. She played through her recitals before every time that she went on a tour, which was three or four times a year. She would play the tour programs for us up there in [Organ Studio] 427. We could watch everything that she did. Technique was all there. Everything was PERFECT. It was a wonderful example. No frothing at the mouth. Very elegant. THAT was most instructive.

SE: And it was always from memory, right.

RG: Yes.

SE: That’s interesting to me, about memorizing. What about extemporization?

RG: I wouldn’t give you a dime for an organist who couldn’t extemporize a little bit, who has to have every note written down on a piece of paper before he can play anything, who can’t even touch the manuals without having the notes down on the page. I-IV-V-I, if nothing more than that.

But they don’t seem to stress that enough everywhere. I don’t see why they can’t do it. Just scared to death. Make music, as it were. You know what I mean? If you leave your scores at home, on Sunday, go make music. Maybe find a hymn tune and just play on your own. But you know, we’re afraid of it, even though we’ve got music in us and enough technique in our fingers--but of course that takes daily practice.

SE: You’re absolutely right!

RG: It’s partly about your early experiences as a child. There was nothing wrong with sitting down and playing on the keyboard without having anything on the music rack.

SE: Your first teaching position was as professor at MacMurray College in Jacksonville, Illinois, from 1951-1962. It must have been very exciting to get a teaching position right after receiving your graduate degree from the Eastman School. Please describe how this appointment came about.

RG: The appointment was in May of that year, and I started teaching in September [1951]. I knew about the place because I knew of at least one student at Eastman from Jacksonville who had been a student of Ruth Melville Bellatti who was the teacher there before I was. There had been Eastman teachers there in the department of music.

The school was about to get a new four-manual Aeolian-Skinner organ in the chapel. It was a beautiful organ, and I was lucky to have it while I was there--the last 10 years that I was there.

I went back to play there, and they gave me an honorary doctorate [Doctor of Music]. [The recital and conferring of the degree took place on October 3, 1975.] It was a high point for me. That concert was the first concert on the Jacksonville/MacMurray Civic Music Series. They had all kinds of things, you know: orchestra, pianists, from all over--not just one area. They had a full house, as I recall. Do you remember Ruth Melville Bellatti?

SE: No. I only recall hearing the name.

RG: She was my predecessor there once removed. She was a classmate of Catharine [Crozier]. She was a superb player, and she was the one that really got the ball rolling on that new organ.

SE: Didn’t Harold Gleason design that organ?

RG: He had a lot to do with it. He made some suggestions.

SE: That would explain the connection to Eastman. 

RG: Many of the teachers had been from Eastman way back into the 1930s. Joe Clelland went there back in the 1930s and brought Ruth to the faculty. That was one of the best things they ever did. Then she got married to Walt Bellatti and started raising a family. That’s when they got Wilbur Sheridan for four years, and then just the time before the organ was to arrive, he left--went to a college in Washington state, and that’s how I got the position. I saw the new organ specification on paper and thought, “You’re leaving this?” Those were wonderful years. Catharine Crozier played the opening recital.

SE: Didn’t you direct the orchestra at MacMurray?

RG: That was the first year that I was there. The director/chairman called me in and asked, “Wouldn’t you like to conduct the orchestra?” “Sure, I can’t wait.” “Well, you’re the only one around here with any orchestral experience.” I said, “What, I haven’t had any orchestral experience.” “Yes, but you’ve PLAYED in one.” That means you are a conductor if you’ve played in an orchestra.

Well, such as it was. They had five violins, clarinet, bassoon, that was it. String bass, cello, and PIANO--fill in, you see. It was kind of pitiful there for a while, but I was game--I had no choice! They had to grab players anywhere you could find them--faculty, local residents, students--and nobody was any good. It was pretty bad, and I wasn’t much better.

We had a concert coming up right away--Christmas Vespers--and we had to get together right away. In the first place, I had to find something that I thought they could play amongst this VAST repertoire in their library. At the first rehearsal, about half of the instruments were there. The next week, it was just be another arrangement of people, sort of like pick-up. I thought that this was hopeless, so I told the pianist to play loud! We’ll have to have something to carry us through. That was my experience with that orchestra. 

I also taught counterpoint, which I wasn’t planning to do, but this other teacher had left. He was the string teacher and taught counterpoint.

SE: How were your organ students there that first year?

RG: The first year, I think that I had six, and I was lucky to have that many. They didn’t know me, and the organ was coming next year. Then I started playing over the radio every Sunday afternoon, and that got a lot of attention for that area. Then the students began piling in, and there were some very good ones.

One of the prides of that school was the chapel building, which is a handsome building, and the organ. In the meantime, they have acquired a new music and arts building.

SE: How did your appointment to The University of Michigan come about?

RG: It was late in the year and I had been out in Los Angeles to play for my first national convention of the AGO. Then I played for Clarence Mader at his church in Los Angeles that summer, Immanuel Presbyterian Church, Wilshire Boulevard.

Marilyn Mason had played in Springfield, Illinois that spring, and I went over to hear her, and I met her afterwards. Then, in a few days’ time, she called and asked if I would like to be considered for a job at The University of Michigan. There were no vacancies then, but that summer--June--it opened up. So they called me up, flew me back. I met with the dean and the executive board, and was offered the position. Just like that!

SE: Who was the dean of the School of Music then?

RG: James Wallace--a grand guy. Just first rate. He was an ideal dean. The door was always open to students and faculty alike. He was not impressed with himself. His trump card: he was very humane. He would never miss a faculty recital. If there were two on the same night, he would go to the first half of one and the second half of the other. It was the same with some of the older students. He’d show up! 

SE: What have been any highlights of your years at Michigan?

RG: There have been many, such as receiving the Harold Haugh Award for Excellence in Teaching; I appreciated getting that award. And the Eastman School of Music Alumni Achievement Award.

In February 2002, Eastman and the Rochester Chapter of the American Guild of Organists (organized by Tom Trenney) invited me back to do a masterclass for their students. They wanted me to do a roundtable discussion with David Craighead (“Conversation with the Masters”), talking about the “old days.”

Right at the end of that, the Director of the School of Music, James Undercofler, surprised me and presented me with [that year’s] award for Distinguished Alumni Achievement. It was like a diploma, and he read off the citation. This was a surprise, a big surprise.

SE: How have organ teaching and playing evolved over the course of your 50-plus years of teaching? Compare your current students to former students.

RG: Students have changed in the 40 years I’ve been here. They’re not as open and natural. They’re more guarded--not all--more so than they used to be. They had more fun then. It’s all very serious now.

SE: How has the Organ Reform Movement affected organ building and performance?

RG: Well, the level of organ building and tonal design has improved somewhat; but I still enjoy a good E. M. Skinner with certain repertoire, and I have some students who feel that way. They are really fascinated with E. M. Skinner’s philosophy (if you want to use that word). I don’t find anything very charming in the neo-Baroque ideal. Cavaillé-Coll built organs according to his own ideal. He didn’t copy something from before. We wouldn’t have the great 19th-century heritage in France if he hadn’t followed his own creative urge.

SE: What advice would you give to young organists entering the profession today?

RG: Try to think of yourself as a musician first and don’t worry about what’s the latest thing. Follow your own musical instincts. I grew up playing on a flat, straight pedalboard in Oklahoma City, on the only mechanical action organ in town at that time, and I think that it’s still there. It never wore out. It was one of those Hinners--workhorse of an organ--and they just didn’t wear out. Like Austin--it doesn’t wear out.

SE: Can you say anything about your long-standing friendship/collegial relationship with Orpha Ochse?

RG: I first met Orpha when she was new at Eastman, as I was. I was sitting there (fourth floor), and she came up and asked me, “Does it make any difference which of these organs we can practice on?” I said, “No, as far as I know.” We just became friends. The organ department had a lot of new students that fall (1949), but of course, I’d been there since late June--taking lessons, practicing, working--and that’s when I got my church job, which was why I was there so early.

Her personality, sense of humor--very droll sense of humor--you’d think that she was dead serious about something, but she wasn’t. And she had this incredible ability to see into things--the phony side of things, which I appreciated very much, at that time especially.

SE: That must be an incredible thing to have a friend like Orpha over such a long period of time.

RG: Well she’s a rare bird, that’s one thing for sure, and she is also an extremely intelligent bird. She has an unbelievably sharp mind, and therefore it is fun, but you don’t fool her for a minute.

And her books are universally regarded and essential in any organist’s libary: The History of the Organ in the United States; Organists and Organ Playing in 19th-Century France and Belgium, a great resource; and more recently her books about the Austin and Murray Harris companies.

SE: What were some of your favorite organs to play throughout your career?

RG: The 1911 Austin at First Presbyterian Church, Oklahoma City.

The 1920 Kimball organ at the Shrine Auditorium, Masonic Temple, Oklahoma City.

The 1918 Kimball at First Church of Christ, Scientist, Oklahoma City.

At the Eastman School of Music, the 1936 G. Donald Harrison Aeolian-Skinner in Strong Auditorium. This was a totally different idea of organ design. I hear they’re going to restore it.

Church of the Advent, Boston, Massachusetts, 1936 Aeolian-Skinner. It has some of the loveliest sounds that you will hear anywhere. It, along with the Groton School instrument (1935), represented Harrison’s new “American Classic” design.

High on this list would be Merner Chapel, MacMurray College, Jacksonville, Illlinois: 4-manual Aeolian-Skinner (1952).

All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Worcester, Massachusetts, 1934 Aeolian-Skinner. It has been through many transformations/revisions but is now restored (under the supervision of current organist and former student, Peter Stoltzfus).

Bridges Hall, Pomona College, Claremont, California, 2002 C.B. Fisk. I just heard this a few weeks ago, demonstrated beautifully by college organist Bill Peterson--such an organ and such playing!

 

SE: What various influences led you to devote your efforts to the romantic repertoire?

RG: I like the music! I loved the Franck D-minor Symphony and heard it performed before I actually played it in the high-school orchestra. The Saint-Saëns Symphony No. 3--a recording that I had on 78 record--the reeds of that organ were compelling. I identified with the sounds of those instruments right away. I did not know much about Cavaillé-Coll, but I knew that I liked those sounds.

SE: Do you want to say anything about your performing career, Bob?

RG: Well, I enjoyed it while it lasted. I’m not performing any more. I have what is called atrial fibrillation. Have you heard of that? My heart doesn’t have any rhythm: it doesn’t know where the beat is. It goes crazy because you can’t get enough oxygen for it to operate correctly, so I’m taking all of this medication--I have been now for a couple or three years. It keeps me sort of on an even keel.

The last performance that I did, I almost couldn’t play. I’d been out to West Texas. What a trip--nightmare of a trip! Flying out there, changing in Houston, missing the connection, galloping through the terminal, then missing the connection, then pain all over every inch of my body. It was heart failure. The heart was trying to do the best that it could, but it couldn’t keep up. I didn’t know that at that time. 

I got to the church the next morning. The organ man was there and the organ wasn’t ready to play. He said that I’d have to come back later on in a couple of hours and that they needed more time. I never got to the organ until the night before the performance. It didn’t go very well. I was too tired, by the time I got to second half, I thought that the other pieces were ho-hum, ordinary. Then I thought that maybe this was the right time to “turn the corner.”

I then went to North Texas State University, Denton, Texas, which was presenting a conference on Cavaillé-Coll. I did a recital of that repertoire on that organ in the main hall, and that was hard to do, too. I was just exhausted, and I couldn’t get rested. I thought then, “Just cool it. You don’t need to do this the rest of your life.” The more that I thought that way, the more comfortable I felt.

I played Widor Seventh, complete, on the last part of the program. I got into the next-to-last movement (slow movement) and the organ ciphered, so I had to stop, of course. By this time, I was so dizzy that I didn’t know which way was up, so they came up to see about me. I told Jesse Eschbach, my former student, that I couldn’t go on and that he would have to help me out and that I couldn’t finish the recital. Meanwhile, the audience was wondering what was happening since I didn’t return. I was supposed to teach a performance class the next morning. I did get up and do that.

Then I went to Memphis. I got things worked out, but there was trouble with the organ and one of these impossible situations where the console is where you can’t get to it--you needed to be an acrobat! Nice acoustics, though. Nice organ--Schantz. So I didn’t go. I didn’t play. I cancelled out about an hour before curtain time--too dizzy!

They all seemed to understand when I told them what had happened. But that was the last time I attempted to play anywhere, and I thought then, “That’s it. I’ve done this now since I was that high, so that’s fine.” Having made that decision, I felt as if there was a big weight lifted off of my shoulders. But I’m sorry that I didn’t know more about it (my situation) before that performance because people were down there and waiting. So I got on the plane the next morning and flew back here, and that was it.

SE: So, what about retirement and the whole concept of retirement?

RG: The concept of retirement? Well, at The University of Michigan we have what they call a retirement furlough. It’s a nice deal. You have another year to do things that you want to do and get paid full salary. You teach as much as you want to or not at all. And they’ll furnish you with a studio or office.

SE: So, will you do that then?

RG: I’m going to stay right here for the time being--and then, we’ll see. I have no idea what I’m going to do after that. I think I’m going to get together all of my annotated copies of all the scores of Franck, some Widor, and some Sowerby, and get those out. That’ll take me the next 10 years!

SE: What about recording?

RG: The only thing that I regret is that I didn’t go on and record more than I did. I wish I had gone ahead and done all the Franck. I had that in mind, but I didn’t get to it soon enough. And I’m not too happy with what I did, although I’ve been told over and over again how wonderful it is, so I thought, “OK, if you think it’s so wonderful, I’ll shut up.”

That was a wonderful organ (All Saints’ Episcopal, Worcester, Massachusetts) for Franck, rather than packing up and going abroad. I didn’t want to do that. There’s a lot more to a “telling” performance than a particular organ. The particular organ does help, but I don’t think you have to have only THIS organ. If you do, you’re kind of stuck.

SE: Your legacy as a teacher and a performer are legendary, and you have been an inspiration to countless numbers of organists, myself included. What do you feel has been your greatest contribution to the organ world?

RG: Students (without hesitation), and I don’t hesitate a minute to say that, in spite of a few huge disappointments; yet some times I can’t stand them! But that’s more lasting. And maybe, to a certain extent, my performance, because you demonstrate what you’ve been teaching. One should be able to do that: put up or shut up. But I’ve done that over a period of how many years, so I didn’t feel too badly about realizing I couldn’t do it anymore or shouldn’t do it anymore.

RB: It’s like a chain of succession.

RG: Well, we now have the next generation of mine. I’ve been blessed the past 54 years with some extraordinarily talented students--almost too numerous to list here.

Robert Noehren: In Memoriam

December 16, 1910-August 4, 2002

by William Osborne, J. Bunker Clark, Haig Mardirosian, and Ronald E. Dean

J. Bunker Clark is editor of Harmonie Park Press. He taught organ and theory at Stephens College (1957-59), was organist and choirmaster at Christ Church Cranbrook (1959-61), taught music history and harpsichord at the University of California, Santa Barbara (1964-65), and music history at the University of Kansas from 1965 until retiring in 1993.

 

William Osborne holds three degrees from the University of Michigan. He serves Denison University in Granville, Ohio as Distinguished Professor of Fine Arts, University Organist, and Director of Choral Organizations.

 

Haig Mardirosian is Associate Dean of Academic Affairs and Professor of Music at American University. He is also Organist and Choirmaster at the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes, Washington, DC, and a recitalist, recording artist, writer, and consultant on organ building.

Ronald E. Dean is on the faculty of Centenary College, Shreveport, Louisiana.

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Robert Noehren died on August 4 in San Diego, California, at the age of 91. (See "Nunc Dimittis," The Diapason, September 2002, p. 8.) International recitalist, recording artist, author, scholar, professor and university organist at the University of Michigan, and organbuilder, Noehren enjoyed a long and remarkable career, and was clearly one of the major figures of our profession in the 20th century.

His many recordings and recitals evidenced a special kind of organ playing: the highest standards of musicianship, devoid of superficial excesses, quiet and controlled console manner; indeed, his technique seemed to become quieter and easier the more difficult and virtuosic the music became. He continued to practice the organ daily and record up until his death, carried on extensive correspondence, had plans for another commercial recording on his organ in Buffalo, was preparing a talk for the AIO convention this month, was working on a cookbook of his favorite recipes, and continued to enjoy music, art, fine wine, good food, and friends from all over the world.

Below follow tributes in Noehren's honor, by William Osborne, Bunker Clark, and Haig Mardirosian, and a review by Ronald Dean of Noehren's Bach CD which was released last year, in addition to a listing of his articles and news releases as featured in The Diapason. Requiescat in pace.

--Jerome Butera

Robert Noehren: A Remembrance

When Jerry Butera, Ron Dean and I shared a meal during the Organ Historical Society gathering in Chicago on the final day of June, we regaled ourselves with tales about and from the man who had had such a seminal influence on us and a host of others, assuming that he would endure virtually forever, little anticipating the shocking news of his sudden death only weeks later. He had suffered the loss of his devoted wife only months earlier, but on the evidence of telephone conversations had seemed quickly to reconcile himself to this new phase of his incredibly rich life, determined to get on with his latest passions, energetically practicing daily at age ninety-one on his electronic [sic!] house organ, wrestling with what he could possibly say to a conclave of pipe organ builders in Los Angeles during an upcoming invited lecture, listening intently to CDs drawn from his immense collection, having been recently attracted particularly to the playing of pianist Ivo ogorelich.

A consummate man of the organ, he was nonetheless not preoccupied with the instrument, always fascinated by a wide range of human understanding.  For example, when the Noehrens made the decision to relocate to suburban San Diego after a particularly harsh Ann Arbor winter, the significant tragedy of their transfer was a wayward moving van stranded in the desert heat of the Southwest, a delay that turned the man's substantial and valuable wine collection to vinegar. I suspect that in retrospect he might have preferred to express himself through a medium other than the organ, since he was constantly dissatisfied with so many examples of the instrument, especially his inability to make music on them to his satisfaction. In fact, he suggested that his students could learn more about elegant music-making by observing a fine singer, violinist or pianist, and, when time permitted, he practiced Chopin or Debussy at the piano, although never in public.

It seems a bit incredible that he retired from studio teaching at the University of Michigan more than four decades ago, and that at least a few of his students have preceded him in death. I, for one, found him a rather reluctant pedagogue. When provoked, he could be enormously enthusiastic and insightful, but one had to work to attract his attention. He loved to tell a story that he attributed to George Faxon, but which I suspect was meant to mirror his own predicament. Supposedly Faxon had in his Boston studio a very comfortable upholstered chair where he ensconced himself as he directed a student to play straight through a big Bach prelude and fugue. As the piece proceeded, he would brush the lint off his jacket, adjust his shoelaces, settle back, and gradually fall completely asleep. The student, having finished his performance, would turn expectantly, at which point Faxon would suddenly rouse himself and blurt out: "Bravo! Play it again!"

Robert Noehren also frustrated and even infuriated many in a profession rife with calcified credos by remaining in a constant condition of quest. I joked that it was impossible to ride a Noehren bandwagon because, as his would-be disciples were clambering on one side, he had already jumped off the other and moved on to some new position. Recall the man's seminal role in the organ Renaissance in this country. He was one of the first to study the classic European instruments to the extent that he was able to understand and explain what made the instruments of Schnitger and Cavaillé-Coll tick. Those of us privileged to experience his organ design course can vouch for that wisdom. It was also Robert Noehren who was crucial in bringing to this country in 1957 that groundbreaking von Beckerath instrument in Cleveland's Trinity Lutheran Church. I can remember driving from Ann Arbor to Cleveland in a snowstorm to experience the incredible revelations that it offered. So, how did a man devoted to the principles the Beckerath manifested become a builder of instruments based on direct electric action and incredible amounts of borrowing and duplexing? Hard to say, except to acknowledge that he later pretty much disavowed that facet of his career, although expressing annoyance over those attempts to redress some of the mechanical problems he bequeathed the instruments' owners. He did assert that his foray into organ building resulted from his failure to find an established builder who was willing put his ideals into practice. Recall also that the best of his instruments were and are ones of distinction, and that he was a pioneer in considering the possibility of computer-driven combination systems, even though the clunky, punchcard system that he and a Michigan Engineering colleague devised seems hopelessly antiquated now.

Even though he has left us physically, his legacy will surely survive in the form of his immense discography and the many provocative, sometimes quixotic writings published in this journal and elsewhere.

What will survive as well for those of us privileged to know him is the memory of a man with a generous sense of humor (I will never forget the look on his face when asked in a studio class by a pompous doctoral student how one properly mounts the bench); an immense, eclectic repertory (e. g., as I recall, virtually nobody on this side of the Atlantic was aware of Tournemire when Noehren began to champion the man); an intense musicality at his chosen instrument that nonetheless refused curtailment by any of the various performance "isms" by which the profession lives (Furthermore, I, as one who was privileged to assist him often, for example in the series of sixteen all-Bach programs he played in Hill Auditorium before such marathons became fashionable, was always amazed that, while he advocated marking scores extensively, he always seemed to play from pages untouched by a pencil.); an incredible range of experiences (e. g., as a young church organist in Buffalo being asked to play the two existing Hindemith sonatas for their composer, thereby indirectly provoking the writing of the last of the trilogy); a man of immense principle who retired from active teaching prematurely when confronted with a Michigan dean who asked him to create the country's largest organ department (he seems to have been prescient enough to have anticipated the future state of the profession and thus suggested as an alternative the country's finest, albeit compact organ program); and, last, but hardly least, the sense that organists are all too often insular in their perspective, encouraging all with whom he was associated to seek out and embrace the full  range of human experience.

RN, we will miss you.

--William Osborne

From his editor

"Gee, it's hard to play the organ, isn't it?"--cliché by Robert Noehren after hearing a student trying to play a difficult piece.

"Gee, it's hard to produce a book about the organ"--my cry in the process of working with Bob on An Organist's Reader.

Bob had been talking about doing a book for some years, but I'm proud of persuading him to begin in earnest in 1995. He sent a box two years later, and after two more years of phone calls and letters concerning the details, the box was sent to Harmonie Park Press in February 1997, and the result appeared in November 1999.

I'd known Bob since going to Ann Arbor in 1950, but after my piano days unfortunately never took organ with him. Nonetheless, I was lucky to audit several of his classes on the history of the organ--which, in retrospect, helped considerably in checking details of historic instruments. Even then, it was embarrassing to both of us to have a good friend point out the omission of thirteen pedal stops from the 1576 organ of  the Georgenkirche, Eisenach. (Harmonie Park Press has an errata slip, or get it at .) But this omission had not been discovered when that article had previously been published in the Riemenschneider Bach Institute's Bach no fewer than three times, 1975, 1985, and 1995! It's only logical that an organ associated with Bach would have more than two pedal registers, no?

He correctly defended Grobgedackt, against my proposal of Großgedackt. As for another detail, does one use the modern German "K" for Katharinenkirche, or the original spelling Catharinenkirche, Hamburg? (we used the latter). Lüdingworth has an umlaut; otherwise it would seem to be a village in England. So does the composer Jean-Jacques Grünenwald, even though he was French. The foregoing represents a survey of some 54 pages of letters on my computer, which also has comments on a trip to Italy; Eloise's new hip, fall 1997; and his bout with cancer, early 2000.

I had attended many of his Ann Arbor recitals, and have seen the two-story end of the Noehren living room in Ann Arbor which housed his Hausorgel. But Lyn and I really got to know Bob much better when he taught at the University of Kansas, fall 1975; we had Thanksgiving and several other similar occasions together. What a wonderful human being! I already miss our more recent phone chats, in which he described his interest in a proper diet (indeed, published as an article in these pages last year), in our mutual enjoyment of a pre-dinner drink, his interest in audio equipment and recent recordings (usually not of organ music), and in a joke. And I miss his Christmas cards (the design of one is on the cover of his book).

Bob Noehren was very modest--but a hard worker when preparing a recital. He was not vain, but I'm certain he was very proud of the discography and recitals (a representation of programs appears in his book). Above all, in spite of and perhaps due to, his quiet and unassuming manner, his playing never highlighted the performer, but always the music, as if to say "I've studied this piece hard, and here is what I found out."

--J. Bunker Clark

Letters from Noehren

I never met Robert Noehren, yet I am humbled to be able to call him a friend. In the last three years of his life, Noehren and I had corresponded regularly through a series of letters, a thread of correspondence initiated somewhat coincidently.

In my academic administrative capacity, I was at work during 1997 with a project team charged with drafting a self-study report to my university's regional accrediting agency. Our member from the university's publications office, Trudi Rishikoff, saw to the style and editing of the finished document. At some stage of the process, Trudi mentioned that she had learned that I was an organist. Did I know her Uncle Bob?

Uncle Bob, it turned out, was Robert Noehren. With what must have been obvious mirth at this serendipitous news, I told Trudi of my high esteem for Noehren, the thrill of having played a recital on one of his instruments, the honor of having reviewed several of his recordings for both The American Organist and Fanfare, but even more, of the inspiration that I had derived from listening to him perform, both on disc and live, early in my career. I asked Trudi to convey those sentiments and my kindest respects to her uncle.

About the same time, my editors forwarded for review a CD comprising reissues of various Lyrichord recordings by Robert Noehren. These amounted to seminal performances on several of his instruments (as well as others) and an assortment of repertoire attesting to the performer's all-embracing musical interests. The disc merited its title, "A Robert Noehren Retrospective."

Months later, a long letter arrived from Robert Noehren, the first of many in which we discussed issues of mutual interest--musicians, repertoire, organs. Noehren's beautifully composed and printed texts (for openers, I marveled at the deliberate care in writing these and his obvious fluency at computing, something quite remarkable for a man about to turn 90). The composition and printing mirrored what one heard in his meticulous musicianship and performance. His critical but calculated opinions about music matched his gifted and insightful interpretation of music. His thoughts about the music and musicians of his early years in particular bespoke his own deference to tradition, origins, and lineage in composition, organ building, and pedagogy. In sum, these letters represented valedictory notes to a new friend, but they were frank, surprisingly modest, and very generous in tone and spirit. Noehren, it turned out, had wanted to contact me for some time and he had done his research too. He had gone out and found recordings by his correspondent and he had closely read any number of reviews of books and recordings. He was sizing me up!

I had just released a recording of the Suite for Organ, by Paul de Maleingreau. I had not known that Noehren regularly played the toccata from it back in the 1930s. He clearly missed the piece adding that " . . . since it is no longer in my head I am glad to be able to hear it again . . ." Of our mutual interest in Maleingreau, he observed that "it [the toccata] is such a fine work and no one else seems to be interested in Maleingreau." A second little coincidence had sealed a friendship. With that our correspondence grew more personal as well with talk about his wife Eloise, and illness, and aging. He was very sympathetic and supportive at my family's story of senior care, and the intellectual and physical changes brought on with age.

A major part of our conversations concerned organs. For two years, Noehren and I exchanged many words on organ design, organ building, and organ builders. I had made the analytical (but not malicious!) observation in my review of his Lyrichord recording that certain of the organs he built were idiosyncratic. My observation was based on experience. I had played a recital at St. John's Cathedral in Milwaukee where, in preparation, I had spent hours punching out registrations manually on the IBM data cards that comprised the combination action's memory. I had also remarked on the various subunison registers that played only to tenor C. Noehren graciously observed that "It was right for you to comment on the design of my organ in Milwaukee." He continued with a treatise on the economics of organ building, tight budgets, and resource maximization. It may have been a musician/instrument builder speaking, but it was also the voice of someone who had taught at a university and worked for the church!

Noehren tempered economic exigency with art. "I designed the organ [at St. John's Cathedral] always thinking how it was to be used musically." Saving the cost of the bottom twelve pipes of the Great 16¢ Principal on that 1965 organ allowed Noehren to add a string and some mutations to the specification. "If . . . you look at the music of Vierne, you will often see that the Gambe on the Great Organ is required in many pieces. . . . Look at most American organs. There is rarely a string on either the Great or Positiv (or Choir) organs. Indeed, there is usually an Unda Maris set. To be sure, a beautiful sound, but not very useful in much serious organ music." He questioned both his own tonal choices and those advocated by others. Robert Noehren had taken this critic earnestly, drew no offense from the opinions in print, and used the opportunity to engage in a dialog on the merits of respective tonal choices.

I later asked Noehren about Paul Hindemith, adding that my own conception of the organ sonatas was formed mainly through Noehren's recording of them. That prompted a meticulous response concerning Noehren's association with the composer. He outlined meeting Hindemith in Buffalo, where the composer lived after arriving in the United States before going to teach at Yale University, and where the organist played at a small Episcopal parish. Because Hindemith would sometimes visit the church, Noehren eventually got to know the composer well. They spent many hours together discussing interpretation and registration of the then only two sonatas, for Hindemith had just begun composing the third.

I had commented about the respective merits of romantic, colorist and dryer, abstract interpretations of the sonatas. In fact, I told Noehren that I had rebelled against my own teacher's insistence on an orchestral approach to these scores. That rebellion led to my  willful imitation of Noehren's old LP recording. He replied, "Like your teacher, I had been playing them in a rather romantic way, and I have to thank Hindemith for helping me with my musicianship during those early days. I still remember how dissatisfied he was with my performance of the last movement of the first sonata."

Noehren also voiced curiosity about instruments on which I had recorded and consulted. I had asked him about a couple of stoplists on which I was working and received immediate, candid, and helpful responses. At the time, the new organ at my own parish, the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes in Washington, was under construction by Orgues Létourneau. I had confided in Noehren that our hope was for an instrument reflecting English tonal heritage and had sent him specs and scalings. In the end, when I sent him a recording of one of the opening concerts, his approval overjoyed me.

What was most remarkable about Robert Noehren in his last few years was the zeal with which he still played the organ on a daily basis. He had been hard at work revisiting the Orgelbüchlein, a book he felt "appropriate at my stage of life." He had just been diagnosed with serious illness and seemed to find particular comfort in the brief movements. But, he acknowledged their musical difficulties. "I might feel a bit safer in the great G-minor fugue than in the prelude on 'Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn' with that wicked pedal passage at the end!"

While he missed access to a good pipe organ near his home in San Diego, he did own a custom electronic organ, and his curiosity and aptitude with technology had led him to electronically revoice that instrument and add several MIDI sound modules to it. This fulfilled both his need to play on a daily basis and his ongoing instinct to build "better" organs. He was carefully apologetic, but not defensive about this instrument. "I fear that you might be one who believes we have been poisoned by the advent of the electronic organ!" But, he added, that this instrument "assuages some of my frustrations." As proof--extraordinary proof--he enclosed a cassette recording of some Bach, Karg-Elert, and the Roger-Ducasse Pastorale as recorded on his house organ. Of the dazzling and poetic performance of the latter piece, made when Noehren was in his late 80s, he commented, "it is perhaps the most difficult work I have ever encountered, and it has been a constant challenge. It is technically difficult and choosing and executing the registration is no easy task." Of the thousands of organ recordings in my collection, this one, performed by an octogenarian on an electronic organ in his living room and recorded on his little cassette machine, is the most prized.

Robert Noehren had also published a book of memoirs that I had reviewed, and some of the letters to me may have well been an elaboration or gloss on the book. At one point, Noehren sent a long list of all his teachers--piano, organ, theory, composition. This early 20th century Who's Who of our profession contained several names that interested me greatly.

One of these was Charles Courboin for, as a boy, I would sit in the choir loft at St. Patrick's Cathedral and watch Dr. Courboin play for the 11:30 "organ mass." In those pre-Vatican II years, the Cathedral maintained the tradition of a low mass (rendered mostly silently by the priest at the east end) accompanied by organ music (rendered not at all silently by the virtuoso at the west end). I would, on my own, take the bus and the subway and travel down to 5th Avenue on Sunday mornings in order to hear the Solemn Mass at 10 o'clock. I would always remain for Courboin's organ mass at 11:30. It was a splendid dessert to the sung mass. Courboin would graciously welcome me to the gallery and even ask me what I would like to hear. Courboin's phenomenal memory was legendary and I don't ever recall naming a piece of repertoire that he could not simply rattle off.

One of the reasons that Courboin fascinated us both was his atypical profile for an organist. He loved fast cars and boats. He was dashing and, in Noehren's terms, "could have been mistaken for a government ambassador." While a student at the Curtis Institute during the early 1930s, Noehren had coached with Courboin. One morning, Noehren and his friend Bob Cato, Lynnwood Farnam's favorite student, were walking downtown. They ran into Courboin. "He behaved at once as if we were his best friends and suggested we all have lunch at Wanamaker's. It was then about 11:00 o'clock, and he invited us to meet him at noon at the front of the store. When we finally entered the dining room it became apparent that the luncheon had turned into a big party in a private room with at least 15 people. All I can remember of the food is that for dessert there was a great flourish as the party was presented with a huge baked Alaska prepared for the occasion."

Robert Noehren also recalled his meetings with Fernando Germani (with whom he became friends and who introduced him to Italian food and garlic), André Marchal (who influenced him musically but was "distracted by the ladies," such that, in a meeting along with Marilyn Mason, Marchal paid no attention to Noehren), Gaston Dethier (who had the most formidable technique of anyone and whose pedaling was "really phenomenal" although he eventually no longer took the organ seriously), and Lynnwood Farnam (whose playing "simply put everyone I had ever heard in the shade"). These reflections were all the more vivid as several of these legendary performers were still active in my own youth. As Noehren put it about our swapped recollections, "what a difference a generation makes!"

How does one summarize the enormous range and analytical insights of Robert Noehren? It is difficult task to be certain. His musical life spanned East Coast and West, with a long stop in between. He could be, at once, a Classicist and a Romantic. He studied old music and old organs, built modern instruments capable of playing the old, and championed scores by composers of his own day. He was the recitalist who built instruments to overcome the defects he perceived in the instruments upon which he had to play. He studied with the legends of his youth and passed that tradition on to generations of fortunate students in one of the country's most important universities. He agglomerated seemingly far-flung and inconsistent concepts, all the while making sense of their synthesis. His world was expansive and never shrank, for his all-embracing curiosity disclosed an adroit mind that slowed little even in its ninth decade. Robert Noehren zealously coveted the truth--truth as discovered, revealed, debated, or developed in theory and creativity. He grappled with and reconciled art and technology decades before such would become commonplace. He generously communicated his remarkable journey to a large audience in his writing and teaching, and even to a grateful correspondent late in his days.

Can all of this, then, amount to anything less than the absolute and comprehensive definition of professional and personal intellect, art, and, above all, integrity? I would argue not. Integrity, furthermore, takes courage, the courage to pursue truth and to assert the convictions to which one's work leads. As such, Robert Noehren was nothing less than a genuine hero. I thank God for having had a moment to know him. Requiescat in pace.

--Haig Mardirosian

Robert Noehren bibliography in The Diapason

Robert Noehren is organist and choirmaster of St. John's Church, Buffalo. November 1940, p. 22.

Robert Noehren takes up new work in Grand Rapids. September 1942, p. 3.

"Organ Building an Art Not to be Limited by Definite Styles." February 1944, p. 12.

Robert Noehren leaves Grand Rapids for war duty. March 1944, p. 23.

Famed Dutch Organ Used in Broadcast by Robert Noehren. November 1948, p. 2.

"Poitiers Cathedral Has Famous Cliquot Organ Built in 1791." June 1949, pp. 28-29.

Noehren appointed to post in Ann Arbor. September 1949, p. 4.

"Historic Schnitger Organs Are Visited; 1949 Summer Study." December 1949, p. 10; January 1950, p. 10.

Bach recitals by Noehren in Ann Arbor and Buffalo. June 1950, p. 40.

"Famous Old Organs in Holland Disprove Popular Fallacies." March 1951, pp. 8-9.

"Organ Cases Objects of Beauty in Past and Return Is Advocated." June 1951, pp. 14-15.

Michigan "U" course reorganized to make all-around organist. November 1951, p. 38.

"Schnitger Organs That Still Survive Teach New Lessons." December 1951, p. 24.

Robert Noehren on fourth tour of recitals in Europe. September 1953, p. 17.

Robert Noehren is winner of prize for his recording. November 1953, p. 1.

Robert Noehren to play in Duesseldorf. June 1954, p. 1.

"Commends Opinions of Dr. Schweitzer to Organ Designers." February 1954, p. 22.

Robert Noehren is awarded doctorate. June 1957, p. 1.

"How do you rate? Test yourself on this final exam." July 1959, p. 16.

"Music Dictates Good 2-Manual Organ Design." September 1960, pp. 12-13.

Robert Noehren . . . Northwest regional convention. April 1961, p. 16.

Noehren to act as judge at Haarlem Competition. December 1962, p. 3

"The Relation of Organ Design to Organ Playing." December 1962, pp. 8, 42-43; January 1963, pp. 8, 36-37.

Robert Noehren to give dedicatory recital on the Schlicker organ at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. March 1963, p. 24.

"The Organ and Acoustics." March 1964, pp. 26-27.

"Architectural Acoustics as related to Church Music." November 1964, pp. 40-41.

"Taste, Technique and Tone." April 1965, p. 49.

"Schnitger, Cliquot and Cavaillé-Coll: Three Great Traditions and their Meaning to Contemporary Organ Playing." November 1966, pp. 40-41; December 1966, p. 28; January 1967, pp. 48-49; February 1967, pp. 44-45.

Robert Noehren appointed Rose Morgan Professor of Organ for the fall semester of 1975 at The University of of Kansas. September 1975, p. 18.

Robert Noehren, professor of organ at the University of Michigan, retired in January 1976. June 1976, p. 2.

Robert Noehren named professor emeritus. January 1977, p. 5.

Robert Noehren elected Performer of the Year by New York City AGO. May 1978, p. 19.

"Squire Haskin--a tribute." February 1986, p. 2.

"The discography repertoire of Robert Noehren." March 1990, pp. 12-13.

"Robert Noehren at 80: A Tribute." December 1990, pp. 12-14.

"Organ Design Based on Registration." December 1991, pp. 10-11.

"A Reply to the Tale of Mr. Willis." January 1997, p. 2.

Robert Noehren celebrates his 90th birthday. December 2000, p. 3.

"Enjoying Life at 90." September 2001, pp. 15-17.

"Reflections on Life as an Organist." December 2001, pp. 17-20.

 

Johann Sebastian Bach: Organ Works. Robert Noehren, Organist. Previous unreleased recordings from 1980 issued in celebration of Robert Noehren's ninetieth birthday. Noehren organs of The Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and The First Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, New York. Fleur de Lis FL 0101-2. Available from The Organ Historical Society, P.O. Box 26811, Richmond, VA 23261; 804/353-9226; $14.98 plus shipping;

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Program: Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542; Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein, BWV 668; Wo soll ich fliehen hin, BWV 646; Partita: O Gott, du frommer Gott, BWV 767; Partita: Sei gegrüsset, Jesu gütig, BWV 768; Fugue in G Major ("Gigue"), BWV 577; Prelude and Fugue in D Minor ("Violin"), BWV 539; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543.

This new issue, like the previous Robert Noehren Retrospective produced by Lyrichord (see this journal, December, 1999, p. 11), is the result of expert remastering by Hal Chaney of analog recordings done on tape many years ago. As in the CD mentioned above, this issue features organs designed and built by Robert Noehren.

For those who are familiar with Noehren's tasteful and flexible organ playing, this issue should come as a welcome addition to his already considerable discography. Noehren was never one to endorse or follow "trendy" or merely currently fashionable playing ideas; instead, he always makes the music come alive through thoughtful application of scholarship and study of the scores to determine both just the right tempos and appropriate registrations for convincing musical communication. These features are in abundance on this new issue.

Another important facet contributing to the pleasure of this CD is the fact that the same person is both the artist and the organ builder. His clearly articulated philosophy of organ tone (see An Organist's Reader, reviewed in this journal, September, 2000, p. 10) is demonstrated here all the way from gutsy and brilliant (but never strident) principal and reed choruses to subtle smaller ensembles and solo combinations appropriate to the musical requirements. One can imagine that Noehren was able to bring forth the very sounds that were in his "mind's ear" by performing on these two rather large instruments of his own design.

All the pieces except for the two chorale partitas are performed on the 1966 organ in the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist in Milwaukee, while the partitas show off the varied smaller ensembles and solo combinations of the instrument in The First Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, built in 1970. Both instruments are of similar size, with the Buffalo instrument (somewhat larger) notable by its frequently pictured hanging Positiv division.

Seasoned players and students alike will be inspired by the apparently effortless execution of the more demanding works and should take note of the way Noehren uses subtle rubato to point up the structure of the various forms. His elegant approach to trills and other ornaments reveal that the artist regards these items as integral parts of musical expression and not simply as whimsical and mechanical additions to the musical line.

Blessed with both an astounding playing technique and impeccable musical taste, Robert Noehren's playing as revealed on this CD should bring feelings of recognition to those who have head him in past years and should also serve as a revelation to the younger generation. Highly recommended.

--Ronald E. Dean

Centenary College

Shreveport, Louisiana

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