Mendelssohn the Organist

Homer Ashton Ferguson III received his bachelor of arts degree with a major in music from Illinois College in May 2000, studying organ with Rudolf Zuiderveld and piano and conducting with Garrett Allman. In May 2002, he completed his master of music degree at Arizona State University under the direction of Kimberly Marshall, where he is currently working on his doctoral degree in organ performance. He is also the organist and music associate at Central United Methodist Church in Phoenix, Arizona.

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

Bach and Beyond: Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century

November 7-8, 2003, scholars and performers gathered for the organ symposium “Bach and Beyond--Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century,” sponsored by Illinois College (Jacksonville, Illinois), under the direction of Dr. Rudolf Zuiderveld, professor of music and college organist, and co-sponsored by MacMurray College (Jacksonville, Illinois), First Presbyterian Church (Springfield, Illinois), and John Brombaugh (Eugene, Oregon).

Day One: by Homer Ashton Ferguson III

Rammelkamp Chapel at Illinois College and Annie Merner Chapel at MacMurray College were the venues for the first day. Registration began at 1:00 p.m. in the foyer of Rammelkamp Chapel, and James Dawson, owner of Oberlin Music in Oberlin, Ohio, set up a sales booth for conferees to peruse various publications concerning the organ.

After a warm welcome by Dr. Zuiderveld and Dr. Axel Steuer, president of Illinois College, the symposium began with the keynote lecture given by Russell Stinson, the Josephine Emily Brown Professor of Music at Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas. Stinson’s lecture, “Bach’s Organ Works and Mendelssohn’s Grand Tour,” revealed some new insights into the reception of Bach’s organ music during the nineteenth century, the era of the so-called Bach revival, through the examination of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. The address gave conference participants a preview of Stinson’s recent research which has been codified in his latest book, The Reception of Bach’s Organ Works from Mendelssohn to Brahms, scheduled for publication by Oxford University Press in late 2005. The book will contain four rather hefty chapters on four major figures of 19th-century music (Mendelssohn, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms) and will investigate how they responded to Bach’s organ music, not only as composers but also as performers, critics, theorists, and teachers.

Mendelssohn was the ideal figure for the “rediscovery” of J. S. Bach’s genius. He composed over thirty works for the organ, often using the organ music of Bach as a model, his editions of Bach’s organ chorales were among the first ever published, and as a concert organist he introduced Bach’s music to the general public. Stinson dwelled on one particular time period in Mendelssohn’s career, his self-named “big trip” of 1830-32, the longest Bildungsreise ever undertaken by a musician in modern times. His travels took him through Austria, Italy, Switzerland, France, and England as well as many German cities.

Mendelssohn’s journey began as a Bach pilgrimage, with stops in Leipzig and Weimar, where he was presented with manuscript copies of two Bach works by the publisher Breitkopf and Härtel. His time was also spent with Goethe, who owned six Bach manuscripts, two of which contained organ compositions. Goethe, a long-time fan of Bach, requested that Mendelssohn visit the local organist. Upon doing so, Mendelssohn reported that he played the “D-minor Toccata.” Stinson continued at some length in establishing that the “D-minor Toccata” reference was definitely a reference to the infamous BWV 565. This conclusion stems primarily from a letter sent from Paris to his family in 1831 in which he requests to be sent copies of six different Bach organ works, including a “Prelude and Fugue in D Minor,” which he identifies by notating the first two beats of the Dorian toccata. This eliminates the Dorian as a possibility because Mendelssohn knew that piece as a prelude, not a toccata.

In late July 1831, Mendelssohn arrived in Switzerland. In need of practice, he began to work on his technique using Bach’s organ works as his pedagogical tool. A letter Mendelssohn wrote to his family while stranded in the village of Sargans revealed that even at this point in his career he still lacked, at least according to his standards, the pedal technique necessary to perform Bach’s big organ works.

Upon his arrival in Munich several weeks later, Mendelssohn continued to focus his attention on mastering his pedal technique. Again, he found himself struggling in his conquest, only this time the organ he had to practice on was partially to blame. Mendelssohn wrote in a letter to his family, “I also play the organ every day for an hour. But unfortunately I cannot practice as I wish because the pedalboard lacks the five uppermost notes.” He did marvel at the beauty of the organ, though, and commented on finding the perfect registration for the famous setting of Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele.

As Stinson continued to demonstrate the influence of Bach’s music upon Mendelssohn, he touched briefly upon Mendelssohn’s sense of profundity in sharing Bach’s organ works with his family and friends. In an account regarding BWV 740, Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott, Vater, Stinson remarked upon the popularity of playing Bach’s organ works as keyboard duets on the piano. Within a rather emotional letter dated November 14, 1831, Mendelssohn sent this chorale to his sisters Fanny and Beckchen to play as a duet, noting, “Now play this chorale with Beckchen, as long as you are together, and think of me while doing so.” Stinson further illustrated this by quoting Fanny in a letter she had written to Felix two years earlier, apropos of Bach’s organ preludes that: “Beckchen is pounding out the pedal part with virtuosity, and it does my heart good to hear her. Old Bach would laugh himself to death if he could see it.” At this point in the lecture Dr. Stinson and his student, Skye Hart, resurrected an old performance practice by playing BWV 740 on the piano, in duet form.

On April 22, 1832, Mendelssohn sojourned back to London, regularly playing the postlude at Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Cathedral, even as he had done to great acclaim in a previous visit in 1829. The organ at St. Paul’s proved to be the ideal instrument on which to perform Bach’s music, due to its larger compass in comparison to other instruments in London. Mendelssohn’s organ playing there is well documented and Stinson went into detail to support the fact that Mendelssohn’s Bach playing was revolutionary for the English organ scene. It was in London that Mendelssohn achieved the level of mastery that he had sought in the performance of Bach’s organ works.

Within this discussion one of Stinson’s most remarked-upon assertions concerned the Prelude and Fugue in E minor, BWV 533, the so-nicknamed “Cathedral.” Stinson believes that it was Mendelssohn’s introduction and repeated performance of this work to English audiences at St. Paul’s Cathedral that led to its nickname. All of the conference participants, including Christoph Wolff, could not think of any evidence to contradict this assertion and were in agreement that this may very well be the forgotten source of this often-quoted moniker.

Stinson concluded his stimulating opening to this conference, noting, “(Mendelssohn) would continue to occupy himself with Bach’s organ works his entire life--as a performer, composer, editor, antiquarian, pedagogue, and ambassador-at-large. Without question, he was the most influential champion of this repertory during the early Romantic era.”

The conference continued with a recital by Jay Peterson, professor of music and college organist at MacMurray College. Performed in Annie Merner Chapel on the MacMurray College campus, the recital featured the historic 1952 Æolian-Skinner Organ, Opus 1150, of four manuals and 64 ranks. This organ, installed under the auspices of Professor Robert Glasgow, then a member of the music faculty, has been dutifully guarded and maintained by Peterson. He recently completed a compact disc recording of this organ featuring American organ music in celebration of the fiftieth birthday of this landmark.

Dr. Peterson readily showed off the colors of the organ through his performance of 19th-century organ music, demonstrating his ability as a commanding performer. The program: Sonata in B-flat, op. 65, no. 4, Felix Mendelssohn; O World, I Now Must Leave Thee, My Heart Abounds With Pleasure, Blessed Ye Who Live In Faith, O God, Thou Faithful God, My Heart Is Ever Yearning, op. 122, Johannes Brahms; Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H, Franz Liszt.

Day one of the symposium concluded with a recital by Douglas Reed, professor of music and university organist at the University of Evansville, on the Hart Sesquicentennial Organ in Illinois College’s Rammelkamp Chapel. This recital attracted a large audience from the surrounding community as it was the November event on Illinois College’s McGaw Fine Arts Series.

Building upon a theme set earlier by Jay Peterson at MacMurray College, Dr. Reed played a program dedicated solely to the masters of the 19th century. His program construction was well-conceived as he “book-ended” his recital by opening with the first movement of the Symphonie Romane by Charles-Marie Widor and then closed with the Final. Originally premiered in 1900 in Berlin, Widor received his inspiration for this symphony from plainchant. Reed continued with a performance of Robert Schumann’s Six Studies for the Pedal Piano, opus 56 (1845). The remainder of his program consisted of Brahms’ Prelude and Fugue in A Minor and Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 5 in D Major.

The evening ended with a reception in Kirby Rotunda on the campus of Illinois College; organ scholars socialized and expounded upon ideas new and old. The inaugural kickoff of Illinois College’s biannual organ symposium was indeed a success. Events are currently being scheduled for November of 2005 and November of 2007, with focus in ‘07 on Dieterich Buxtehude in commemoration of the 300th anniversary of his death.

Day Two: by Joyce Johnson Robinson

All of Saturday’s events took place at First Presbyterian Church of Springfield, home to John Brombaugh’s 3-manual, 70-rank Opus 35.

The day began with an organ demonstration, “Music around Johann Sebastian Bach,” by Rudolf Zuiderveld, organist of First Presbyterian and professor of music at Illinois College in Jacksonville. The program comprised works by Bach’s predecessors, contemporaries, and successors, from Frescobaldi through Brahms, and included a hymn, “If You But Trust in God to Guide You” (Wer nur den lieben Gott), whose verses were preceded by organ preludes of Bach, Krebs, and Böhm. The Sonatina in d by Christian Ritter showcased the full organ, including the 16’ and 32’ pedal Posaunes. The organ is robustly voiced for a full congregation, and the room has a lively acoustic. Yet even with a sparse population in the church, the full organ was loud but not unpleasantly so. The instrument is essentially north German/Dutch, but can capably handle music of other styles as well. In Dandrieu’s variations on O Filii et Filiae, the organ’s French capabilities were highlighted, including récits de nazard, tierce, basse de trompette, flutes, larigot (siffloete), cromorne (dulcian), cornet, cimbel and Grand Jeu. The reeds offered just enough bite, the flutes were clear and full. The organ most definitely possesses gravitas, as demonstrated in Louis Marchand’s Fond d’orgue (Deuxième Suite), in which the 16’ Praestant enriched the plenum without detracting from its clarity.

Next, organists, including students of Douglas Reed (University of Evansville), Russell Stinson (Lyon College), Dana Robinson (University of Illinois), and graduates of MacMurray College and Illinois College played for the masterclass led by Robert Clark, organ professor emeritus of Arizona State University. All but one played Bach works. Dr. Clark’s suggestions reflected the concerns of making music, as well as matters of technique and registration. In order to accommodate all the students who wished to play, the masterclass continued after the lunch break. Participants in the class and in the subsequent recital were Zach Guenzel, Tim Weisman, Cecilia Bogowith, Alicie Zeilenga, Skye Hart, Jeremy House, Nicole Eyman, Luba Tkachuk, Alison Lewis, Scott Montgomery, Jin-Kyung Lim, and Kirk Rich. See Tsai Chan and Alison Lewis played in the masterclass although not in the recital; Robert Horton and Christine Smith played in the recital only.

Following the masterclass, Christoph Wolff of Harvard University delivered a lecture on the authenticity of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Prof. Wolff outlined the claims against Bach’s authorship, which are primarily based on interpretations of sources and on stylistic grounds. His remarks focused on a Berlin Staatsbibliothek manuscript; he considers this source, copied by Johannus Rinck, to be correct in its attribution to Bach. Wolff also discussed details of notation and stylistic traits (such as the arpeggiando figures) which would place the work early in the eighteenth century, and explained the octave doubling at the opening of the toccata as a way around the lack of a 16’ stop on a smaller organ--a way of achieving the effect of a North German plenum.1 Having been reassured that our beloved warhorse was indeed by Bach, we returned to the sanctuary to hear the masterclass participants present their pieces at a recital that capped off the afternoon.

The symposium concluded with a re-creation of Mendelssohn’s “Bach Concert” of August 6, 1840, at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. The concert began with a full organ introductory work by A. W. Bach, followed by Johann Sebastian’s Fugue in E-flat (BWV 552b), Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele (BWV 654), Prelude and Fugue in A minor (BWV 543), Passacaglia and Thema fugatum (BWV 582), Pastorella in F (BWV 590), Toccata and Fugue in D minor (BWV 565), and closing with Mendelssohn’s Choral and Variation on Herzlich tut mich verlangen, and Allegro (Chorale and fugue) in D minor. Robert Clark, Russell Stinson, Rudolf Zuiderveld, Douglas Reed, and Jay Peterson collaborated with stirring playing; for those who had immersed themselves in details of these works’ histories, stylistic details, and performance practice, the concert was a satisfying ending to the weekend’s events.2

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song, are available from Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts.
Lisa Byers received master’s degrees in music education and organ performance from the University of Michigan, and a J.D. from the University of Toledo, Ohio. She is retired from teaching music in the Jefferson Public Schools in Monroe, Michigan, as well as from her position as organist/choir director at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Tecumseh, Michigan. She subs as organist in the Monroe area.
Photo credit: Bela Fehe

The University of Michigan 49th Conference on Organ Music was dedicated to the memory of Robert Glasgow, brilliant organist and much loved professor of organ at the University of Michigan. The conference was truly a celebration of his life as a scholar, performer, and teacher. His raison d’être was music—organ music of soaring melodies and transcendent harmonies. He shared his passion with his students and has left a legacy that can be kept alive through generations of students who instill in their students his ideas.
During the conference, a wide variety of lectures were presented that reflected years of research, along with performances of four centuries of organ music. The conference was international in scope, with lecturers and performers from Germany, Italy, Hungary, Canada as well as the U.S. The themes of the conference focused on the influences of J. S. Bach and Mendelssohn’s role in arousing public interest in Bach’s music.

Sunday opening events
The initial event was an afternoon “Festival of Hymns” presented by the UM School of Music, Theatre, and Dance and the American Guild of Organists Ann Arbor chapter. Led by organist-director Michael Burkhardt, it featured the Eastern Michigan University Brass Ensemble, the Detroit Handbell Ensemble, and the Ann Arbor Area Chorus. Special care was taken to choose, coordinate, and connect music by Bach, Mendelssohn, and Charles Wesley. Many hymn verses and arrangement variations kept the presentation musically interesting and enjoyable. Dr. Burkhardt was masterful in his organ solos, accompaniments, improvisations, conducting, and composing. His leadership from the console was met with great enthusiasm from the appreciative, participating audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Sunday evening’s organ recital program featured music of Spain and France performed by musicians from the University of Michigan’s Historic Organ Tour 56 to Catalonia and France. Janice Feher opened with an excerpt from a Soler sonata. Gale Kramer performed the “Allegro Vivace” from Widor’s Symphony V, followed by Joanne V. Clark’s rendering of the “Adagio” from Widor’s Symphony VI. Mary Morse sang the versets of a Dandrieu Magnificat for which Christine Chun performed the alternate versets. Timothy Huth played a section from Tournemire’s In Festo Pentecostes, and Paul Merritt closed the program with the Dubois Toccata. The various composition styles, registrations, and favorable interpretations performed excellently and sensitively on the Hill Auditorium organ were well received and greatly acknowledged by the audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)

Monday, October 5
Jason Branham, a doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, set the stage for celebrating not only Mendelssohn’s two hundredth birthday but also his profound influence in bringing the forgotten music of J. S. Bach to the attention of Berlin and consequently to Western society. Branham’s program was a reprise of Mendelssohn’s Bach recital presented at St. Thomas-Kirche in Leipzig in 1840, performed to raise money to erect a monument to Bach in Leipzig: Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552; Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543; Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582; Pastoral in F Major, BWV 590; and Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565. Branham’s performance was exciting and earned him thunderous applause.
Christoph Wolff, Professor of Musicology at Harvard, eminent Bach scholar, and author of Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician, gave four illuminating lectures during the conference. In his first lecture, “J. S. Bach the Organist—Recent Research,” he presented arguments supporting Bach’s authorship of the D-minor Toccata and Fugue, BWV 565, dated 1703. Peter Williams, who questioned Bach’s authorship in the 1980s, maintained that such a piece could not have been composed by Bach before 1730. Wolff presented convincing arguments based on an analysis of both the oldest manuscripts and the music itself. He also drew a connection to the discovery in 2008 of Bach’s Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält, BWV 1128, in the library of Halle University. The work is a large free fantasia dated ca. 1705, with compositional features shared by the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Wolff maintained that Bach, whose organ technique was formidable at an early age, composed the D-minor Toccata and Fugue to dazzle his audience with improvisatory passages borrowed from pieces like Buxtehude’s D-minor Toccata. Wolff concluded that this work was written as a showpiece for Bach himself and not intended to be circulated and copied by his pupils; hence only one copy exists, in the hand of Johannes Ringk, dated 1730.
Michael Barone’s handout listing Mendelssohn recordings was a testimony to his impressive knowledge of recorded organ music. Of the many Mendelssohn pieces he played, the most compelling was a 1973 recording of Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, op. 25, played by Robert B. Pitman, piano, and George Lamphere, organ, at the Methuen Music Hall (Pipedreams CD-1002; live performance). The playing was stunning in its youthful exuberance and virtuosity.
Professor Wolff showed images of historical organs and churches connected to Bach, many of which unfortunately no longer exist, in his lecture “Silbermann and Others—The World of Bach Organs.” The most riveting information regarding performance practice of the organ in Bach cantatas came from a view of the original Mülhausen balcony. The balcony was large enough to accommodate strings, woodwinds, brass, and choir; kettle drums were fixed onto the railings overlooking the audience. The choir stood below the instruments. The large organ was used—not a little Positiv. A performance incorporating this practice is on John Eliot Gardner’s recording, Bach Cantata Pilgrimage, using the Altenburg organ in Cantata 146.
James Kibbie, Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, announced that his recordings of the complete organ works of Bach, performed on historical instruments in Germany, can be found at the website <blockmrecords.org>. The project is supported by a gift from Dr. Barbara Sloat in honor of her late husband J. Barry Sloat. Additional details are available at <www.blockmrecords.org/bach&gt;.
Istvan Ruppert is Dean and Professor of Organ in the Department of Music of the Szechenyi University in Gyor, Hungary, and is also an organ professor at the Ferenc Liszt Academy of Music. His program included music by Mendelssohn, Karg-Elert, Max Reger, Liszt, and three Hungarian composers. He has formidable technique and played with great energy and abandon. It was refreshing to hear intriguing and unknown compositions by Frigyes Hidas, Zsolt Gárdonyi, and Istvan Koloss. The humor in Gárdonyi’s Mozart Changes was appreciated. Ruppert is a real enthusiast in sharing music by Hungarian composers by graciously offering to send scores to those who wished to have them.

October 6
Prof. Wolff pointed out in his lecture “Bach’s Organ Music—From 1750 to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy” that Bach’s Clavier Übung III offered a textbook of organ playing. Wolff lamented that Mendelssohn’s inclusion of historical music by Bach, Handel, Mozart, and Haydn into the Gewandhaus concerts had unfortunate consequences in our concert programs today. While only five percent of his concerts were devoted to “historical composers,” the remaining works were by contemporary composers, himself, Liszt, Schumann, and Schubert. Today our programs are mainly old music, with five percent devoted to new music.
Susanne Diederich received a PhD from Tübingen University. Her dissertation, “Original instructions of registration for French organ music in the 17th and 18th centuries: Relations between organ building and organ music during the time of Louis XIV,” represents some of the ground-breaking research on French Classical organs; it was published by Bärenreiter in 1975. In her lecture, “The Classical French Organ, Its Music and the French Influence on Bach’s Organ Composition,” Diederich pointed out that the French Classical organ was complete by 1665, and Guillaume Nivers’ First Organ Book of 1665 contained the first description of all the stops. Her handout was especially informative in showing how Bach’s table of ornaments in his Klavierbüchlein für Wilhelm
Friedemann reflected his assimilation of ornament tables by Raison, 1688, Boyvin, 1689, and Couperin, 1690. Robert Luther, organist emeritus of Zion Lutheran Church in Anoka, Minnesota, played movements from Guilain’s Second Suite, and Christopher Urbiel, doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, played movements from de Grigny’s Veni Creator, Marchand’s Livre d’orgue Book I, and Bach’s Fantaisie, BWV 542, to illustrate features Bach borrowed from the French Classical repertoire.
Seth Nelson received his DMA in organ performance from the University of Michigan in 2003; he is organist at the First Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas, and accompanist for the San Antonio Choral Society and the Trinity University Choir. His lecture/recital, “Music of the Calvinist Reformation: Introducing John Calvin’s Theology of Music,” included an explanation of why Calvin did not approve of the use of the organ in services. The reasons were many: the Old Testament mentioned its use, thus it is not appropriate to use an old instrument in the new age; it is wrong to imitate the Roman Church; it is an unnecessary aid; it is too distracting; it is against Paul’s teaching, “Praise should be in all one tongue.” The highlight of the program was hearing Seth Nelson’s spirited playing of Paul Manz’s introduction to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 42 and Michael Burkhardt’s introduction and interlude to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 134.
The evening concert featured Mendelssohn’s six organ sonatas played by James Hammann, chair of the music department of the University of New Orleans. It was a rare treat to hear these technically demanding pieces all played at one sitting. Dr. Hammann’s years of investment in this music is apparent. His recording of Mendelssohn’s organ works on the 1785 Stumm organ in St. Ulrich’s Church in Neckargemünd is available on the Raven label.

October 7
Tuesday morning began with the annually anticipated narrated photographic summary of European organs presented by Janice and Bela Feher. This year featured the UM Historic Organ Tour 56 to Northern Spain and France. The PowerPoint presentation included at least 600 photographs of organs in 35 religious locations and the Grenzing organ factory in Barcelona. The organs dated from 1522 to 1890 and included builders Dom Bedos, François-Henry, Louis-Alexandre, Clicquot, Cavaillé family, Cavaillé-Coll, Moucherel, and Scherrer. The photos showed views of cases, consoles, mechanical works, stained glass windows, altar pieces, sacred art, and other enhancements. The Fehers provided a written list with detailed information for each picture. Their first book, with Marilyn Mason, is available by mail order from <Blurb.com>. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Stephen Morris is a lecturer in music at Baylor University, Waco, Texas; organist-choirmaster and director of music ministries at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit in Houston, Texas; and maintains a studio as a teacher of singing, largely concentrating on early adolescent female voices. His presentation, “Acclaim, Slander, and Renaissance: An Historical Perspective on Mendelssohn,” incorporated visual images and music. Among the lesser-known facts is that Mendelssohn was admired and befriended by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. They chose Mendelssohn’s March from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” for their daughter’s wedding. It became a favorite for productions of Shakespeare throughout Europe. However, due to anti-Semitism fueled by Richard Wagner, Mendelssohn’s March was banned by Nazi Germany, and ten other composers were commissioned to replace it. Ironically, the Nazis preferred Bach above all composers, yet they never would have known about him without Mendelssohn. Morris noted that there is a great wealth of information on Mendelssohn research at <www.
themendelssohnproject.org>.
Professor Wolff concluded his Bach-Mendelssohn lectures with a fascinating presentation, “The Pre-History of Mendelssohn’s Performances of the St. Matthew Passion.” He described Sarah Itzig Levy, Mendelssohn’s maternal great aunt and a famous harpsichordist, as the moving force who began the revival of
J.S. Bach’s music. She introduced family members and friends to many of Bach’s works. She studied with W.F. Bach and commissioned C.P.E. Bach to write what turned out to be his last concerto: one for harpsichord, fortepiano, and orchestra. She regularly performed in weekly gatherings in her salon as soloist with an orchestra from 1774–1784. In 1823 Mendelssohn was given a copy of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion by his grandmother, Bella Salomon, Sara Levy’s sister. It took Mendelssohn five years to persuade his teacher, Carl Friedrich Zelter, to have the Singakademie of Berlin perform it. The 19-year-old Mendelssohn conducted Bach’s St. Matthew Passion to a packed audience that included the Prussian king. This performance enthralled the audience and thus began J. S. Bach’s reentry into the hearts of German people and to the world at large. Mendelssohn continued conducting performances of the St. Matthew Passion when he became director of the Gewandhaus in Leipzig in 1834, at the age of twenty-six. He re-orchestrated it, shortened some pieces, omitted some arias, and introduced the practice of having the chorale Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden sung a cappella. That score and the performing parts are now in the Bodleian Library.
Eugenio Fagiani, resident organist at St. Michael the Archangel Catholic Church in Bergamo, played a recital at Hill Auditorium featuring Italian composers Filippo Capocci, Oreste Ravanello, Marco Enrico Bossi, and four of his own compositions. His playing was impeccable, and his compositions reflect the influence of one of his teachers, Naji Hakim, in style and use of exotic sounds and feisty, driving rhythms. His Victimae Paschali Laudes, op. 96, has a wide variety of striking timbres, ranging from a clarinet plus mutation stops to a big-band sound. His creativity as a composer was undeniable in his Festive Prelude, op. 99b, composed for this conference. Here the pedal occasionally sounded like percussive drums. The work sizzled with energy and ended in a fiery toccata. Fagiani played “Joke,” another of his compositions, as an encore. The audience enjoyed his quotations from J. S. Bach and John Lennon. More can be learned about this impressive composer/organist at his website:
<www.eugeniomariafagiani.com&gt;.
Michele Johns, Adjunct Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, presented an interesting lecture on the changes of taste reflected in hymnals from four denominations over the past forty years. She noted that the texts have become more gender inclusive, hymns in foreign languages are included (“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” appears in four languages in the Presbyterian Hymnal), and there is greater variety in styles from “pantyhose music”—one size fits all—to Taizé folk melodies; she proved her point that in today’s hymnals there is “Something Old, Something New.”
One of the most exciting recitals of the conference was played by Aaron Tan, a student of Marilyn Mason and a graduate student in the School of Engineering at the University of Michigan, organist/choirmaster at the First Presbyterian Church in Ypsilanti, and director of the Ypsilanti Pipe Organ Festival. His memorized recital shimmered with grace and energy: Alleluyas by Simon Preston; Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3, by Marcel Dupré; Sicilienne from Suite, op. 5, by Maurice Duruflé; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, by J. S. Bach; Moto ostinato from Sunday Music by Petr Eben; Naïades and Final from Symphony No. 6 by Louis Vierne. The audience gave him a standing ovation.
The concluding recital was played in Hill Auditorium in memory of Robert Glasgow by some of his former students. The program was a beautiful tribute to his life—a life devoted to the study, performance and teaching of organ music, especially the music of Franck, Mendelssohn, Vierne, Widor, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms. The performers brought with them some of his spirit, some of his light, some of his joy in creating something that puts us in another dimension. His attention to the minutest detail of the score, his total commitment to breathing life into each phrase was mirrored in these performers:
Mark Toews, director of music, Lawrence Park Community Church, Toronto, past president, Royal Canadian College of Organists, Variations de Concert, op. 1 by Joseph Bonnet; Ronald Krebs, vice president, Reuter Organ Company, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, op. 122, no. 11, Fugue in A-flat Minor, WoO8, by Johannes Brahms; David Palmer, Professor Emeritus, School of Music, University of Windsor, organist and choir director, All Saints’ Church, Windsor, Ontario, L’Apparition du Christ ressuscité a Marie-Madeleine by Olivier Messiaen; Joanne Vollendorf Clark, Chair of the Music Department, Marygrove College, Detroit, minister of music, Hartford Memorial Baptist Church, Detroit, Pastorale, op. 26, by Alexandre Guilmant; Charles Miller, minister of music and organist, National City Christian Church, Washington, D.C., Pièce héroïque by César Franck; Joseph Jackson, organist, First Presbyterian Church, Royal Oak, Michigan, “Air with Variations” from Suite for Organ by Leo Sowerby; and Jeremy David Tarrant, organist and choirmaster, the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit, Andantino, op. 51, no. 2, and Carillon de Westminster, op. 54, no. 6, by Louis Vierne.
Professor Marilyn Mason made the 49th Conference on Organ Music at the University of Michigan a reality. She invested countless hours of planning and organizing into making it happen, because she has an insatiable thirst for learning and thinks “we all need to learn.” She has brought brilliant scholars and performers together for 49 years to teach and inspire us. The list includes such figures as Almut Rössler, Umberto Pineschi, Martin Haselböck, Todd Wilson, Janette Fishell, Madame Duruflé, Catherine Crozier, Guy Bovet, Peter Williams, Lady Susi Jeans, Wilma Jensen, Gordon Atkinson, and Marie-Claire Alain (to name only a few). We thank her for such priceless gifts.

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

Pittsburgh is a very attractive American city, situated between the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers, which meet to form the Ohio River at the tip of a Manhattan-like triangle of land that is the downtown. Home to 151 high-rise buildings, two inclined railways, and a staggering 446 bridges, it is more than ketchup and paint, and I recommend a visit. You will fall in love with the city, its museums, vistas, churches, and the organs!

Monday evening, June 21, 2010
The convention began with an evening concert preceded by a wandering bus ride o’er the hills of Pittsburgh through the campus of Carnegie Mellon and the magnificent architecture of the University of Pittsburgh. Soon we arrived at Calvary Episcopal Church, a huge building designed in 1904 by Boston architect Ralph Adams Cram. One of the great Gothic Revival churches in America, its 208-foot-long interior seats 1,000 people. The present organ, a huge 4-manual Lawrence Phelps Casavant, Opus 2729, dates from 1963, with modifications and enlargements in 1991, 2004, and 2010.

The recitalist was Peter Guy from Australia, who began with the hymn How shall I sing that majesty to the tune Coe Fen, which I hope will make its way into hymnals soon. The concert began with Duruflé’s Prelude, Adagio, and Chorale Variations on “Veni Creator.” Flutes bubbled about the church as soft solo reeds soloed beneath. The Adagio was announced with a somber Trumpet, then that gorgeous string passage. The variations were played with grace, tenderness, and power. The console was moved into the crossing, and those of us sitting in the transept could not help but notice that, good Aussie boy that he is, Guy played in his stocking feet!
Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 537, came next. The organ’s principals were warm and expansive as he used the swell shades to good effect, although the registrations did get a little muddy. Guy then played a piece by Australian composer Keith Noake (1915–1968): Introduction, Pastorale, and Fugue on Leoni—a good demonstration of some solo stops. In the Pastorale we heard the clarinet against the Swell strings. The Fugue was announced with, I believe, the powerful Trompette Royale on the Great. A majestic ending brought the piece to a close.
A charming Cantilène by Salomé was next, with a solo on the oboe and a sort of oom-pah accompaniment on a Choir flute and soft pedal. Guy closed with Gothic Toccata, by another Australian composer, Graeme Koehne (b. 1956). Its C-minor tonality had loads of fire and color—a virtuoso performance! A standing ovation demanded an encore: Angelic Whispers by W. R. Knox, from the 1930s.

Tuesday, June 22
The day began in pouring rain as we made our way to Bellevue, Pennsylvania, and the Roman Catholic Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary on the Beautiful River. The Romanesque church features a splendid fresco of Mary ascending into heaven surrounded by saints, apostles, and angels. The acoustics were wonderful for the 1964 3-manual Casavant of about 41 ranks.

The recitalist was Ann Labounsky, who began with Langlais’ famous Hymne d’actions de grâce “Te Deum”. It was marvelously played with great expansiveness. We then sang the hymn Holy God, we praise Thy name (Grosser Gott)— all seven verses. The Pittsburgh area was in the midst of a heat wave, and the humidity and heat made for some colorful tuning issues in the many non-air-conditioned churches we would enter during the convention. This one was no exception. The reeds complained, but Ms. Labounsky soldiered on, took charge, set a good tempo and led us well.
She ended with Six More Pieces for Organ, op. 133, by Pennsylvania composer Joseph Willcox Jenkins (b. 1928). We would hear his fine music several times during the week. I. Sonatina showed the principal choruses. II. Arioso used the strings and a soft solo reed. III. Ludus Angelorum used an Alleluia chant from the Roman Missal. The clear and focused registrations at mf level were well chosen. IV. Ochone used the Great 8′ Principal as a solo over soft foundation stops. A plaintive bagpipe-like cry was heard, then the solo principal returned with an answering phrase by a solo reed. V. Dona Nobis Pacem began with the flutes. Soon we heard the Cornet on the Choir. This organ is very much of its time, but the voicing is very refined. VI. Toccata (“This Service Ends, Let Yours Begin”) brought the piece to an end. Very enjoyable music, beautifully played, and on a fine mid-20th-century organ!
The second stop of the day was at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Perrysville for a recital by the church’s own organist, Charlotte Roederer. The organ is a 2-manual, 7-rank, tubular-pneumatic Estey, Opus 1558 (1917). An unusual feature is the Swell 8′ Oboe, which is reedless. Roederer began with Variations on Tallis’s Canon by Franklin D. Ashdown (b. 1942), which provided a good demonstration of the tiny instrument’s resources. Each of the three Great stops (all are at 8′ pitch) has twelve Haskell basses. The tone of this fine little organ, rich and full, was more than able to accompany a church full of OHSers. Those old boys building organs at the turn of the 20th century knew what they were doing.
Then came a beautiful little Prelude, op. 19, no. 1, by John Knowles Paine, which Roederer played with careful attention to phrasing and elasticity. Dudley Buck’s Concert Variations on “The Star-Spangled Banner,” op. 23, followed, beginning on the gentle Swell Salicional. The hymn was Praise to the Lord, the Almighty (Lobe den Herren). We sang the first verse in German, as we were in the home of this German congregation. Roederer led us skillfully.
We then went to Hartwood Acres County Park, site of a large Cotswold-style limestone mansion, which houses a 2-manual Aeolian player organ, Opus 1091 (1909), now under restoration. There was a fun circus-like self-playing instrument on the grounds that entertained us during our meal.

The first stop of the afternoon for my group was Nativity Lutheran Church, Allison Park, to hear James Heustis Cook demonstrate the church’s M. P. Möller Opus 10656-T (1970). That “T” stands for tracker! This organ proved to be a surprise favorite of the convention! With 2 manuals and pedal and 18 ranks, it was beautifully voiced, a joint venture between Möller and G. F. Steinmeyer & Co. of Germany. Page 143 of this convention’s Atlas tells of a political brouhaha that raged around a pastor of this church who barricaded himself within its walls, a labor dispute, and some of the organ’s pipes. It is quite the story.
We heard a marvelous concert on this wonderful little organ. The chairs had been turned around so that we faced the organ. Cook began with Bach’s Fantasia in C, BWV 570, played expressively on a nicely voiced 8′ Principal. Next was a setting of Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott, by Johann Nikolaus Hanff (1615–1711), which featured a solo on the Trumpet stop. We then returned to Bach for Nun freut euch, lieben Christen g’mein, BWV 734, very well played with a fine, clear flute on the Great, and the Swell 4′ Krummhorn coupled to the pedal.
J. G. Walther’s Lobe den Herren, den mächtigen König der Ehren used the organ’s very fine principal chorus. We then sang the hymn to that tune. It was appropriately played and the organ was more than adequate to the task of accompanying a church full of OHSers. The “Let the Amen” was hair-raising!
There followed Two Pieces for a Musical Clock by Franz Joseph Haydn: Marche and Presto. The “cute” factor was very much in play—I liked the 4′ Koppel Flute. Next was a favorite of mine: Hermann Schroeder’s setting of Schönster Herr Jesu; Cook played it with tenderness and grace. In the Scherzo from Vierne’s Second Symphony, Cook’s nimble fingers flew over the keys. Music for a Sunday Morning by Allen Orton Gibbs (1910–1996) followed, beginning with energetic mf sounds for Prelude (Psalm 122:1); Offertory (Prayer) had contrasting A and B sections; Postlude (Psalm 117) was a rollicking dance-like piece.
Cook closed with two movements from Dan Locklair’s Rubrics: “. . . and thanksgivings may follow” used the 7-bell Zimbelstern, mounted in front of the 8′ Principal façade pipes; it seemed to dance along with the jazzy rhythms of this wonderful music. “The Peace may be exchanged” brought this outstanding recital to a gentle end.

We were then divided into two groups. Somehow there was a scheduling snafu (these things happen), and my group arrived at St. Benedict the Moor Roman Catholic Church in Pittsburgh an hour early, so we enjoyed some down time. We admired the many beautiful African touches that adorned the grand old building. The organ in the balcony was a 2-manual Derrick & Felgemaker, Opus 95 from 1872; I counted 22 stops. Moved to St. Benedict’s in 1958, by 1990 it fell into disuse. The Harmony Society, directed by John Cawkins, restored the instrument. It is used only occasionally. OHS’s Steven Schnurr presented the congregation with an OHS Citation of Merit.
Kevin Birch began with Flötenkonzert, op. 55, by Johann C.H. Rinck. I. Allegro Maestoso: the Great Principal chorus played in dialogue with a very pleasant-sounding Swell Stopped Diapason. II. Adagio used the lovely Melodia. III. Rondo (Allegretto) alternated between full Great and Swell 8′ and 4′ flutes. Full organ with reeds brought this attractive music to a close. Next was Liszt: Consolation in D-flat, which used more of the foundation stops—then came Ave Maris Stella. The gentle and sweet little Keraulophon had to compete with the church’s fans; the fans won. (It was quite warm and humid.) The hymn Hail, Holy Queen enthroned above (Salve Regina Coelitum) is a sentimental favorite of mine, taking me back to my ‘younger and more vulnerable years’. A Beethoven Scherzo followed. It sounded like a glockenspiel—utterly charming.
In the Intermezzo from Rheinberger’s Sonata IV, op. 98, the lovely melody sang out on the Swell’s Bassoon/Oboe. This is a fantastic organ, and yet the choir sits at the opposite end of the church in front of the old altar surrounded by a piano, an electronic instrument, and a drum set.
Birch closed his program with Fantasie-Sonate No. 2 by Samuel de Lange Sr. (1811–1884). I. Maestoso used full plenum with reeds in music reminiscent of Guilmant. II. Andante provided another visit with the beautiful flutes of this organ. III. Allegro con fuoco brought back big forte sound alternating with a smaller sound on the Swell, and a fugue. A superb demonstration recital on a superb organ!
A delicious dinner was served on board a riverboat, The Gateway Clipper, as we cruised up and down the wonderful rivers, enjoying the skyline, the lights, and the magnificent sunset. Those of us with cameras had a great time!

Wednesday, June 23
Calvary United Methodist Church in Pittsburgh was our first stop. The 3-manual, 32-stop Farrand & Votey, Opus 734 (1895), was given an OHS Citation of Merit. The church is very beautiful with huge Louis Comfort Tiffany windows. James Hammann’s recital featured music by Horatio Parker. Parker’s Sonata in E-flat Minor, op. 65, was an excellent demonstration piece with its changes in tone color and dynamics. The Doppel Flute and Swell Cornopean were prominently featured in the first movement. The second movement, Andante, was a dialogue with the flutes, Clarinet, and Vox Humana. Hammann is no stranger to instruments like this, and he used its resources very well. The Allegretto began with a humorous conversation between the flutes and the clarinet. I could see many smiles around the room. The Doppel Flute dominated the chat. The sonata closed with a fugue, which built to full organ as it proceeded at a modest pace. The Charles Wesley hymn Forth in Thy Name, O Lord with the tune Pixham by Horatio Parker (from The Hymnal 1940) closed the program. It was well led, and sung with enthusiasm. Pity it did not reappear in the 1982 Hymnal.
Our bus caravan drove northwest of Pittsburgh through forested hills and valleys to the city of Beaver, and Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, a mid-1950s building in the style of a New England meeting house. The one-manual and pedal eight-stop Felgemaker organ, Opus 665 (1898), has survived a series of moves and fires that causes one to salute its durability. Dana Hull and John Cawkins supervised its revitalization. Today it stands in the rear gallery. Richard Konzen presented an eclectic program of music from Gabrieli to Distler. He began with a lively Praeludium in C by Johann Christoph Kellner, in which flutes were soon joined by the Open Diapason 8′ and the Fifteenth. Gabrieli’s Ricercar arioso IV featured the Open Diapason in fine style, with well-articulated and elegant playing. Next came Dreissig Spielstücke für die Kleinorgel by Hugo Distler:
1. Schnelle was announced with 8′ and 2′. In 2. Schnelle, the warm Melodia took over. 3. Gehende began on the Dulciana; he then added the 4′ flute for a bit before returning to the beautiful Dulciana.
4. Flincke was a jolly little canonic thing on flutes 8′ and 4′ with the Fifteenth.
Next came that great hymn, All my hope on God is founded, with its tune Michael by Herbert Howells. Konzen followed with a great favorite by Pietro Yon: Humoresque ‘L’Organo Primitivo’. He closed with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 539, which worked quite well on this organ—Felgemakers are amazing instruments. This was a very well-played program.

The afternoon began at First Presbyterian Church in New Brighton, with a recital by Andrew Scanlon on the church’s fine 2-manual, 17-register Hook & Hastings Opus 2548 from 1928, which stands at the front of the church. Scanlon began with three of Six Pieces by Joseph Willcox Jenkins (b. 1928). Deo Gracias showed the usual Hook powerful presence—the forte sound was arresting. Arioso used the organ’s soft sounds—the oboe and strings, etc. were lovely. Rondeau alternated between the 8′ and 2′ flutes and other quiet effects.
Next was Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 537. Scanlon played it in the style of the 1920s, with shades and such. He used simple, clear registrations—each musical line was carefully delineated. The marvelous fugue moved at a good clip, with only a small use of the shades—good Bach playing. He then played a piece new to me: Fideles from Four Extemporizations by Percy Whitlock—very calm and soothing music. I loved the strings on this organ. There was a small chime at the end.
The hymn was God moves in a mysterious way (London New). The organ was a trifle too heavy in places, but otherwise it was well done. Scanlon closed with Langlais’ Three Characteristic Pieces. Pastorale-Prelude featured the Oboe and some of the organ’s softest sounds. Interlude used the fine Swell Dolce Cornet III. Bells featured many of the stronger sounds, building to a grand “peak” of sorts. A fine demonstration of a great organ!
We then went to St. John’s United Evangelical Protestant Church in Zelienople to hear organist Gregory Crowell and cellist Pablo Mahave-Veglia, with the church’s sweet little Joseph Harvey organ from 1838. Harvey was a Pittsburgh organbuilder. This one-manual (no pedal) organ has four stops and stands in the rear gallery. Crowell began with Voluntary (Adagio) by Charles Zeuner, played on what sounded like the Stopped Diapason, followed by Festival Voluntary from Cutler & Johnson’s American Church Voluntaries (1856). From Sanahin by Hovhaness, he played VII. Apparition in the Sky (Bird-like) on the 4′ Principal.
Some Mendelssohn followed: Andante religioso from Sonata in B-flat, op. 65, no. 4; Adagio non troppo from Lied ohne Worte, op. 30. The hymn was I would be true (Aspiration); the tune was new to me. We were instructed to sing the last verse pp so that we might hear the cello obbligato, which used material from Mendelssohn’s Song without Words. It was lovely. A Fugue in D Minor (1778) by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach followed, and the concert ended with a fine reading of Vivaldi’s Sonata VI for Cello and Continuo in B-flat Major, RV 46.
The next recital was one I had looked forward to for a long time. Paul Matthew Weber played the 1969 Flentrop organ (2 manuals, 22 stops) at Center Presbyterian Church in Slippery Rock. I was his first organ teacher, and was proud to see him become a Biggs Fellow to the New Haven convention. He would go on to study at Lawrence University and then at Yale, where he earned his DMA. I shall try to be impartial in this review. Actually, that will not be a problem, as his recital was brilliant. The heat that afternoon was oppressive and the organ fought back, but none of us minded. Weber began with the Offertoire sur les grands jeux from François Couperin’s Parish Mass. The reeds were as unhappy with the heat and humidity as we were, but we paid no attention to their complaining—Paul’s wonderful sense of the French Baroque style carried the day.
Next was Sweelinck’s variations on Mein junges Leben hat ein End. Weber began with the Hoofdwerk Prestant 8′, then the Brostwerk 4′ Koppelfluit, then flutes 8′ and 4′, and led us on a fine tour of this very good organ. His playing was clear and controlled, with imaginative choices of color. Brahms’s Herzlich tut mich erfreuen, op. 122, no. 4, featured a dialogue between the Hoofdwerk principals 8′ and 4′, and the Brostwerk flutes 8′ and 4′. We then sang Weber’s setting of that hymn, which he led with great strength. He closed with Buxtehude’s Toccata in G Minor, BuxWV 163, played with a wonderful sense of drive and energy. Immaculate technique and musical line propelled this rousing music to an ebullient conclusion. Well done!
The evening concert took place at Grove City College’s Harbison Chapel on its 4-manual Kimball organ, Opus 7102 from 1931, which stands in chambers on either side of the chancel. The organ had fallen into disrepair, but has been beautifully restored by the Thompson-Allen Company. The console was updated by Nelson Barden & Associates; with solid-state switching and combinations, it is now more practical for teaching. With the air hot and humid, the doors and windows were left open, which allowed fireflies to enter the chapel, adding an enchanting touch to the evening.
It is always a joy to hear Thomas Murray, a regular at OHS conventions. He began with Rhapsody on a Breton Theme, op. 7, by Saint-Saëns. Murray is a master of the orchestral style. His flawless use of expression shades and tone color is the stuff of legend. This piece was a delight. He then played one-time Yale faculty member Paul Hindemith’s Sonata II. Clean registration with contrasting statements highlighted this performance. I loved the growl of the lowest notes of the Swell 16′ Bassoon. Widor’s Symphonie II followed. Murray opened the first movement (Praeludium Circulare) with the huge First Open Diapason 8′ forcing its way into the long room. Other 8′ opens followed. Pastorale playfully danced before us on the beautiful Oboe, which provided whimsy and bliss. He moved the Andante right along—mostly mf, he built it quite smoothly to a good ff and back. Quieter sounds finished the piece, with the French Horn playing the theme. The Finale showed plenty of dash in the hands and feet—it was a splendid performance!
After the intermission, Michael Barone presented Prof. Murray with the OHS Distinguished Service Award for 2010, a richly deserved honor. We leapt to our feet to applaud this great musician!
The second half offered transcriptions by Edwin H. Lemare: Im Garten from Rustic Wedding Symphony, op. 26, by Karl Goldmark (1830–1915). The strings, Vox Humana, and French Horn were heard doing what they do best. Murray did what he does best: bring the most out of this music and organs of this type, making the music sparkle and glow. The next transcription was Scherzo, op. 70, no. 3, by Heinrich Hofmann (1842–1902), a delightful confection; at the end, we even heard the harp.
We then heard a 2008 work by Dan Locklair: Glory and Peace—A Suite of Seven Reflections, commissioned by the Association of Anglican Musicians. Murray gave the premiere performance at Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles. The movements are inspired by the great George Herbert hymn King of Glory, King of Peace. I. King of Glory, King of Peace (Prelude) used the Tuba Mirabilis in a steadily moving section rising to a ff then backing down to strings and a 32′. II. “. . . seven whole days . . .” (Pavane) used foundation stops. III. “. . . I will praise Thee . . .” (Galliard) is a dance with harp and a faint trace of “America”. IV. “. . . I will love Thee . . .” (Aria) used the Swell Trumpet singing with warmth over some flutes. V. “. . . with my utmost heart . . .” (Scherzo) had playful flute sounds occasionally interrupted by a single chime, which he employed with wit and grace; the harp got the last word. VI. “. . . I will sing Thee . . .” (Trio) was more charm and fun. VII. “. . . e’en eternity’s too short to extol Thee” (Finale) had big full sounds—a joyous romp! A great piece, a great organ, and a great organist! And to add to the magic of the evening, fireflies gracefully led the way back to our buses.

Thursday, June 24
After a lovely climb through more of Pittsburgh’s beautiful neighborhoods, we arrived at the spectacular Gothic Revival Episcopal Church of St. Andrew, Pittsburgh’s second oldest Episcopal church, formed in 1837. Their present building dates from 1906 and features a chancel window, “Christ Blessing Little Children,” by Tiffany Studios. The organ is a 4-manual Skinner, Opus 202 (1913). Beginning in 1992, organist/choirmaster Peter Luley began rebuilding and expanding the organ in the Skinner style. We had two performers that morning: Donald Wilkins and Charles Huddleston Heaton.

Donald Wilkins performed music by Pittsburgh composers. First was a sturdy Postludium Circulaire by Henry Gaul (1881–1945), followed by Western Pennsylvania Suite (1958) by Ruel Lahmer (b. 1912). I. Dunlap’s Creek moved along gently on softer foundation stops. II. Fading Flowers was quiet. We heard the melancholy nature of Skinner’s solo stops, including Oboe and French Horn. III. Bellevernon was somehow reminiscent of Aaron Copland, and built itself to IV. The Spacious Firmament, which brought this nice piece to an end.
Gloria Te Deum by Nancy Galbraith (b. 1951) is in the style of a French toccata. Next was Joseph Willcox Jenkins’ Cantique Joyeux from Trois Cadeaux, op. 206 (2005), which featured the brilliant Fanfare Trumpet above the west doors. It calmed itself down to a pp and then made its way back.
We then switched organists. Charles Huddleston Heaton began with Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3; he played it very well, but I could have done without the fanfare trumpets at the end of the fugue. Prelude on Christmas Carol by Morgan Simmons (b. 1929) followed. It is a gorgeous setting of that wonderful carol tune by Walford Davies sung to O Little Town of Bethlehem—worth getting! Fanfare-Improvisation on Azmon came next and led into the hymn O for a thousand tongues to sing.
The next stop was St. James Roman Catholic Church in Wilkinsburg, which greeted us with a peal of its bells—something we used to do all the time at OHS conventions, but have for some reason or another abandoned. Bring it back, please! Will Headlee performed on the church’s large Möller organ, Opus 9628 (1962), in a program entitled “Homage to Ernest White (1901–1980).” The music came from White’s collection Graveyard Gems (St. Mary’s Press, 1954). The organ is interesting for, among other things, its Swell division divided on either side of the altar. Headlee began with Allegro pomposo by Thomas Roseingrave, which marched along nicely. Adagio by Josef Hector Fiocco featured a mini-Cornet sound that was clear and light. Thomas Arne’s Flute Solo showed off the fine Positiv Koppel Flute 4′.
Then came two pieces by Pachelbel: Prelude in D Minor and Ciacona in D Minor. One was aware of the top-heavy sounds of this era of organbuilding. Headlee gave his usual fine performance, with loads of freedom and clearly articulated fast runs. Next, the Gigout Scherzo in E Major from Dix pièces. It put me in mind of an old all-French Biggs LP I owned back in college, which was recorded at St. George’s Episcopal Church in NYC on a Möller of similar vintage.
We then heard Clérambault’s Basse et dessus de trompette from Livre d’orgue on the Great Trompet. After a bit, he added the Harmonics III, giving the Trompet a different character. Brahms’s O Welt, ich muß dich lassen, op. post. 122, no. 3, used the pretty strings, followed by Messiaen’s Dieu parmi nous. The piece worked surprisingly well on this organ. But, oh, those high-pitched mixtures! The hymn Lift high the cross (Crucifer) ended this fine program.

The next recital of the morning was at St. Therese of Lisieux Roman Catholic Church in Munhall, with Stephen Schnurr, who gives an astonishing amount of his time and talent to the OHS. The organ was a 1960 2-manual, 33-rank Casavant designed by Lawrence Phelps. The main part of the organ is in the front of the church in a chamber to the right of the altar. There is a floating nave division at the far end of the long nave, to help support congregational singing. Dr. Schnurr opened with Bruhns’s Präludium in G Major. He played it very well, gradually unveiling the resources of the organ. The only reed stop in the sanctuary divisions is an 8′ Krumhorn on the Swell. The trumpets are in the Bombarde division back in the nave. Next was a setting of Nun freu’ dich, liebe Christen mein’, S. 21, by R. E. Bach, who flourished in the 1740s. It sounded a great deal like JSB’s setting, which elicited a chuckle or two from us.
Next, A Gigue for the Tuba Stop (2004) by Donald Stuart Wright (b. 1940), a pleasant piece, played amicably. The hymn was Lord, you give the great commission (Abbot’s Leigh). This rather gentle neo-baroque organ didn’t stand a chance trying to accompany the OHS in spite of Schnurr’s best efforts. Then, a lovely setting by Edwin H. Lemare of My Old Kentucky Home (Stephen Foster). Unfortunately our bus drivers took it upon themselves to start their engines and move about the parking lot, ruining Stephen’s charming performance and the recording of same. This problem would continue throughout this convention, and was a source of annoyance for all of us. Schnurr closed with Petr Eben’s Moto ostinato from Musica Dominicalis (1958), which worked quite well on this style of organ.
We had lunch and the annual meeting at the Pleasant Hills Community Presbyterian Church, followed by a recital on the church’s fine Holtkamp organ (1970, 2 manuals and 23 stops). The organ stands in the front of the church behind the altar. James M. Stark, co-chair of this convention, was chairman of the committee that produced this organ. Our recitalist was George Bozeman, who has played multiple times for the OHS and who always manages to insert a bit of whimsy along with solid choices of literature. He began with a piece perfectly suited to this quintessential Chick Holtkamp organ: Hindemith’s Sonata I (1937). This organ is a warm-sounding neo-baroque instrument, and Bozeman used it wisely. I especially enjoyed movement II, Sehr langsam, in which the Cromorne sang its sad song from the swell box—a beautiful tone, used very expressively. The full plenum thrilled but did not dominate. This was an excellent organ for this music.
Next came a bit of humor: Bozeman’s own transcription of A Day in Venice, op. 25, by Ethelbert Nevin (1862–1901). It began with: Alba (Dawn), which led into Gondolieri (Gondoliers), with its 12/8 rhythm taking us down some pretty canal. Canzone Amorosa (Venetian Love Song) used the 8′ Principal in the tenor range, with strings and flutes accompanying. Buona Notte (Good Night) brought it to a close with dark, thick chords giving way to lighter strings and plucks on the Great 8′ Gedackt. Who knew a 1970 Holtkamp organ could be a romantic instrument? George Bozeman did! Well done!
The hymn was A stable lamp is lighted (Andujar). Bozeman closed this well-prepared and carefully thought-out program with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E Major, BWV 877, from The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book Two. In the prelude, he demonstrated each of the delicious sounding 8′ and 4′ flutes of this organ. For the fugue he used reeds and foundations—solid, well-defined.
After dinner at the Sheraton Station Square Hotel, we went to the evening event at one of Pittsburgh’s most opulent churches, East Liberty Presbyterian Church, for a recital by Paul Jacobs. This is no ordinary Presbyterian church. It is a huge, vast building in Gothic style built in 1930 to plans by Boston architect Ralph Adams Cram, who was given an unlimited sum of money to spend by the donors, B.B. Mellon and his wife, Jennie King Mellon. Our Atlas quoted architectural historian Walter C. Kidney: “Though building with Presbyterian money . . . [Cram] so designed the chancel that on half an hour’s notice [it] could be set up for a Catholic or Anglican High Mass.” Indeed, carvings and statues were on display all over the building. And the 4-manual, 140-rank organ—the largest we heard at the convention—was to die for. Originally an Aeolian-Skinner, in 2004 Goulding & Wood was awarded the contract to rebuild the organ and reverse changes made in the 1970s. In addition, the acoustics were improved.
Paul Jacobs began with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in F Minor, op. 65, no. 1. The Allegro moderato e serioso was grand and spacious. The peaceful Adagio was restful and quiet. The Andante–Recitativo showed the soft solo and chorus reeds. Jacobs added more and more reeds. His pacing was perfect as the sounds grew grander from this massive organ with seemingly limitless resources. It was, by turns, thrilling and terrifying.
We then sang the hymn The church’s one foundation (Aurelia). The organ seemed a little loud from where I sat. Next, a piece not in the program: Prelude in F Minor by Nadia Boulanger, which showed the strings and foundation stops. He gradually added upperwork before bringing it down to 8′ flutes. Jacobs then moved into Franck’s Finale in B-flat, op. 21. He took the beginning at a dazzlingly fast tempo. I don’t approve of his registrations in Franck, but he sells the music. Who am I to tell Paul Jacobs how to play the organ? I confess that I did like the Flauto Mirabilis used as a solo stop.
During the intermission many of us stepped up to the console to have a closer look. It stood in the center of the chancel. The pipes were high up in chambers on both sides. We were amused to find a drawknob labeled “Console Fan”. When drawn, cool air blows onto the player. Not a bad idea!
After intermission, Jacobs acknowledged the presence of all three of his organ teachers: George Rau, John Weaver, and Thomas Murray. He also introduced his 92-year-old grandmother, and urged all of us to encourage our friends and relatives to attend arts events.
We then heard this remarkable young musician play Liszt’s Fantasy and Fugue on “Ad nos, ad salutarem undam.” Jacobs used the huge variety of tone color at his disposal. It was a grand tour that was at times poignant and at times exhilarating. Young and old, we were all agog over this man’s talent and profound musicianship. We leapt to our feet and cheered. He had given his all to this great music, this great organ, and to all of us. For an encore he played a Bach Fugue in C Minor.
Apart from Jacobs’ playing, what impressed me most was his willingness to meet with all the young people who were present and who clamored to sit on the bench and have their pictures taken with him, this glittering star of the organ world. The Biggs Fellows were thrilled at the gracious generosity of his spirit. He seemed not to have any other concern in the world but to spend time with them—a lesson for all of us!

Friday, June 25
Friday morning began with a drive to the Verona United Methodist Church for a recital by Carol Britt on the church’s 2-manual, 12-rank Wirsching organ (1915). The organ sits in a balcony directly above the altar: the console faces some Tiffany-style windows, with the pipes on either side. A lovely “Coronation” tapestry hangs down to the altar.

We began by singing When morning gilds the skies (Laudes Domini). Britt opened her program with Four Compositions (3. At Twilight, and 4. The Swan) by Charles Albert Stebbins (1874–1958): movement 3 featured the sweet little Oboe; in the fourth movement, the gentle Salicional moved gracefully. Next came Variations on “Les Beaux Mots” by John David Peterson (b. 1946), which had a bit of a French Baroque tambourin style. Then we heard Lemare’s transcription and paraphrase of Stephen Foster’s Massa’s in the Cold, Cold Ground, with the organ’s only reed, the Swell Oboe 8′, playing in the tenor register. The piece ended on the Swell Stopped Diapason with the occasional chime. Britt closed with Mendelssohn’s Sonata III. Such wonderful music, beautifully played, and a very good demonstration of the organ.
All Saints Roman Catholic Church in Etna was our next destination. This Lombard Romanesque (basilica style) church was built in 1915 to plans by John Theodore Comes of Pittsburgh. Six towering granite columns line each of the side aisles. The organ came from the Organ Clearing House, acquired by the church’s organist and OHS member J. R. Daniels (also a co-chair of this convention): an 1895 Hook & Hastings, Opus 1687, of 2 manuals and approximately 23 ranks. Patrick Murphy restored the instrument, completing it in December 1995. It stands in the rear gallery, and the acoustics favored the organ quite well.
Russell Weismann began with Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, op. 37, no. 1, which he played very well, with just the right blend of clarity, drive, and grace. Next was Folk Tune (no. 2 from Five Short Pieces), by Percy Whitlock. The Salicional accompanied flutes on the Great, then the Oboe in the tenor range. The sounds were warm and filled the room. The hymn, Father, Lord of all creation, was sung to the tune Geneva, and included an imaginative reharmonization. Weismann closed with Dudley Buck’s Concert Variations on the Star Spangled Banner. We had the surprise of a Zimbelstern in about the third variation. I’ve never heard anyone else do that. It worked very well. He played with expression and artistry!
We then split into three groups. My group went to First Unitarian Church in Pittsburgh to hear its Wirsching organ built in Salem, Ohio in 1904: 2 manuals and about 21 ranks. The organ was donated by Andrew Carnegie, and Clarence Eddy played the dedication recital. The building is quite handsome, with splendid beams. The organ is at the front, situated in a gallery with an arched recess. Recitalist Mark W. Frazier began with the hymn Sing praise to God who reigns above (Mit Freuden Zart). We were only a third of our usual size, but Frazier played as though the entire convention was singing in this smallish church—needless to say, he drowned us out. The first piece was the Passacaglia, no. 11 from Rheinberger’s Zwölf Charackterstücke, op. 156 (1888). He carried it along quite well.
Next up were Two Chorale Preludes by Roland Leich (1911–1995). Mein Herz, gedenk’, was Jesus thut used a charming 4′ flute. The program listed three movements including a pastorale; the reeds were used well. Die ganze Welt brought it to a close. Frazier then played Légende (2010), which was written especially for this concert by Luke Mayernik (b. 1981). It was full of dark mysterious colors on the Oboe and foundation stops. The middle section called for a Cornet-like sound. The final part took us back to the beginning, and ended on the strings—a good demonstration piece.
We then heard Frazier’s own composition, The Whimsical Frustretude (1995), a happy bit of music with a tongue-in-cheek setting including bits of “Woody Woodpecker”—I liked it a lot! The last piece was Toccata on “Litaniae Sanctorum” (2009) by Robert Farrell (b. 1945)—an exciting work nicely played. Frazier provided well-written and much appreciated program notes, as there was a lot of new music on this fine concert.
There was a symposium on “An Organ in 18th-century Western Pennsylvania: Joseph Downer’s ca. 1788 Chamber Organ”—an organ that only exists in pieces. A distinguished panel of organ historians discussed this instrument. Slides were shown of what remains of the organ, along with what these experts could piece together of the instrument’s history.

My group then went to Pittsburgh’s Temple Rodef Shalom, a large building dating from 1907. The W. W. Kimball Company built the 54-rank, 4-manual organ. Sadly, the instrument is in poor condition and awaits proper restoration. Recitalist Donald Fellows, organist at St. Paul Roman Catholic Cathedral, told us that many of the stops were unusable or had several silent notes. He put on a fine concert nonetheless. The organ stands in a front balcony, which rises above the Bima and the Aron Kodesh. Two menorahs are mounted near the railing, and there are ornamental en-chamade pipes all across the façade. Inside the case is a stop called, appropriately, Tuba Shophar, not playable just now.
Fellows began with Grand Chorus from Twelve Pieces by Theodore Dubois, in which we heard what there was of the Tutti. Next was Balletto del Granduca by Sweelinck, with five of its variations; all were played with great skill and style. I liked the soft flutes and Swell reeds. Then, music by Ernst Bloch: V. Un poco animato from Six Preludes, which presented more of the softer stops. Then A Partita on Laudate Dominum by Richard Proulx—nice individual sounds like the Swell 4′ flute and a beautiful Oboe. We then sang the hymn Sing praise to the Lord (Laudate Dominum), which sounded grand beneath the dome of this great worship space.
The final banquet took place in the palatial spaces of the Carnegie Music Hall, an extraordinary building in Italianate style. The Grand Foyer, added in 1907, was set up for our banquet: a gilded hall with a 50-foot ceiling lined by green marble columns from five countries. We, however, entered the Music Hall first: a lovely jewel-box of a space with red seating for 1,950 people and two balconies. On stage was the huge console of the 126-rank organ. Originally a Farrand & Votey (1895), the organ was rebuilt by
E. M. Skinner in 1917. Aeolian-Skinner did further rebuilding in 1933 and in 1950, adding percussions.
James Stark, in his fine lecture complete with PowerPoint illustrations, told us that the organ had been silent for 20 years. You can imagine our surprise when J. R. Daniels sat down at the console—he played a Fanfare by Michael McCabe that led us into the singing of Eternal Father Strong to Save (Melita). Emotions ran strong throughout that beautiful and historic room. It was one of those “only at OHS” moments. The older folk headed for the beautiful banquet area while the young folk had a field day with this huge and very grand instrument. They soon joined us, happy and smiling at their good fortune! We can only hope that this historic and noble instrument can be blessed with the thorough restoration it so richly deserves. The banquet was fantastic. We felt like royalty!
And then came what was for many of us one of those unforgettable OHS recitals: Wolfgang Rübsam in recital on the huge 4-manual Beckerath organ with its 32′ facade (1962) at St. Paul Cathedral. Our fine Atlas told us that it is “the first mechanical-action organ to be installed in a North American cathedral in the 20th century.” We have the late cathedral organist, Paul Koch, to thank for acquiring this fine organ. It inspired countless organs in the years that followed. It has been restored quite elegantly by Taylor & Boody, who began work on it in 2008. An OHS Historic Citation of Merit was presented by Stephen Schnurr.
Herr Rübsam’s concert was a dandy. He opened with two movements from Vierne’s Symphony No. II in E Minor, op. 20. The Allegro sent volleys of sound through the majestic arches of this great and reverberant building. Rübsam’s famed strength and sense of rhythm plumbed the depths of this fantastic music. As always, he was in complete control of music, instrument, and building. The Chorale movement began on the glorious 16′ foundation stops. It picked up speed and energy, giving us bigger reed sound, contrasting sections of loud and soft, building to a huge ending—it was thrilling.
Next came Franck’s Fantasie in A. It was marvelous hearing him turn this very German organ, with its faint neo-Baroque accents, into a French instrument, which says a great deal about Prof. Rübsam and about Rudolf von Beckerath. With the fine restoration by Taylor & Boody, the organ sounds better than ever.
Then came some Rheinberger (for my money, nobody plays this composer better than Wolf Rübsam): Sonata No. 5 in F-sharp Minor, op. 111. I. Grave-Allegro moderato: the music rumbled through this great cathedral; one was nearly overcome by its sheer force. II. Adagio non troppo used one of the gorgeous principals for a solo in its tenor range. III. Finale (Allegro maestoso) began with a shockingly big sound. He made it roll and roar—utterly fantastic. Can you tell that I enjoyed this recital? His performance served the music first, not himself. It ended in a blaze of glory.
Then Rübsam did something he does as well as anyone on the planet: improvise. This was entitled Polyphonic Improvisation on Rendez à Dieu. There were five pieces, each in the style of a different composer. They were utterly convincing. You would have sworn that he had discovered a never-before-heard chorale prelude from the Clavier-Übung, or that Clérambault had written a third suite. It was a tour de force of the highest magnitude. 1. Chorale was played on the warm 8′ Principal, a beautiful harmonization. 2. Bicinium followed, the evening’s first use of the Cornets in the manner of a French Baroque “Duo” with 16′ in the left hand. 3. Cantus Firmus Soprano had the melody on a strong RH Cornet while the LH accompanied on an 8′ Principal, with Pedal 16′ and 8′ in the manner of a Bach chorale prelude. It was magnificent! 4. Aria: Cantus Firmus Alto was a quiet little thing on what were, I believe, flutes 8′ and 4′. 5. Organo Pleno, c.f. Tenor, and what an organo pleno it was. Then we sang the hymn New hymns of celebration (Rendez à Dieu). Rübsam never used the same harmonization twice in playing this tune. Brilliant! His leadership was extraordinary.
Next, Bach’s Pièce d’Orgue, BWV 572. I’m especially fond of the Gravement section, as it was played at our wedding when my wife came down the aisle. Rübsam made this great music lift us to higher realms as it moved through the great spaces of the building. The Lentement was like a huge peal of bells.
Rübsam closed this extraordinary recital with two movements from Widor’s Symphonie III in E Minor. The Adagio was a welcome relief from the much louder music that preceded it. The 32′ purred under strings and a solo flute, for a lovely effect. Finale pierced the quiet spell cast by the Adagio and he was off—incredible and brilliant playing. I was reminded of notes I took after hearing him play at the Dallas AGO convention in 1994 on the Fisk organ at SMU. His playing transported us to a place where we could see into another realm greater than our own, but being ordinary mortals, we had to turn back and wait our time. It was an awe-inspiring evening!

Saturday, June 26
This was an extra day for the convention, so the group was smaller, but we had a full and interesting time. We began in the charming town of West Newton (est. in 1731) at the First United Methodist Church to hear its 1905 Austin organ (tubular pneumatic), with 2 manuals and 11 ranks. Three young men played: Joseph Tuttle, Dimitri Sampas, and Adam Gruber. Sadly, the room’s acoustic is quite dead, but the organ held its own and has many beautiful sounds. Gruber went first with a Rheinberger trio, but the organ decided to add a bit of its own in the form of a cipher on what sounded like a 16′ Gedackt in the pedal. In spite of that, he played with good attention to the independent lines. He then played a Passacaglia by his teacher, Dennis Northway (who does a superb job shepherding the young Biggs Fellows at these conventions). The piece has many humorous elements: twitters and trills. Sampas played an Offertory by Boëllmann, and the Mendelssohn Prelude and Fugue in G. The Boëllmann was played on the 8′ Open Diapason—a big, bold sound—alternating with the Swell Geigen 8′. He moved the Mendelssohn along nicely, and kept the many strands of the fugue in order. Tuttle proved to be quite a skilled improviser. He used a hymn composed by a founder of this church. We heard more of this organ’s sounds—the strings and flutes were attractive. The improvisation was well conceived and well played!
Our next destination was back in Pittsburgh: Holy Rosary Roman Catholic/St. Charles Lwanga Parish, occupying a very handsome Ralph Adams Cram Gothic building from 1930. The first organ was a 2-manual, 48-register 1901 Hook & Hastings from their previous church. Presently, there is a 1956 3-manual Casavant, Opus 2311, located in a front side gallery. The church finds itself nowadays in an African-American neighborhood, so there are beautiful African sacred art objects decorating the building. Recitalist Jonathan Ryan began with a spirited performance of Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in D Major, BWV 532 at breakneck speed—he took off like a rocket! The prelude ended mp. The fugue continued at the same tempo, but with full plenum. The organ is very typical of Casavants of this period: a warm, clear tone. The closing section brought things to ff and full pedal. Sadly, there was a cipher.
Next was a charming French noël: Où s’en vont ces gais bergers? by Claude Balbastre. The organ was well suited to this literature. I wish he hadn’t used the shades on the softer parts, as they rendered them nearly inaudible because fans were running (but were finally turned off; churches need to be instructed on using fans during organ conventions). I wish more performers would use these marvelous noëls; they are great demonstration pieces. His playing was excellent. Next, in Pastorale and Toccata (1991) by David Conte, the generous acoustic of this tall stone space enhanced the Great Hohlflöte 8′ with the Swell strings in a pensive section. A livelier section followed, with a return to the flutes. Ryan played it with great movement and feeling. The Toccata started with somewhat dissonant chords. He controlled all the elements very well.
The hymn was My song is love unknown to the tune by John Ireland, Love Unknown. Then came something completely different: George Shearing’s I Love Thee, Lord. He closed with The World Awaiting the Savior from Dupré’s Passion Symphony, op. 23. Alas, the cipher returned; a pity, as it ruined the recording of an otherwise fine performance.
We then went to Trinity Lutheran Church, on the north side of Pittsburgh, whose present building dates from 1960. The organ stands in the back of the smallish church: a charming Jardine from 1863 that had quite a history of moves here and there; 2 manuals and an 18-note pedalboard, and 11 stops. The case was honey colored, and the façade pipes were painted a deep maroon. Christopher J. Howerter began with Opening Voluntary by James Cox Beckel (1811–1880), which featured a broad, warm sound. For Trumpet Air, by James Bremner (d. 1780), the blower was turned off and the organ was pumped by hand. The blower came back on for The Sufferings of the Queen of France, op. 23 by Jan Ladislav Dussek (1760–1812). This was programmatic music “expressing the feelings of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, during her imprisonment, trial . . .” Scherzo, from Grand Sonata in E-flat by Dudley Buck, was nicely played and showed the organ well. The hymn followed: Rejoice, the Lord Is King! (Jubilate). He ended with Postlude in C by Walter H. Lewis (fl. 1890s). This was a real period piece, sounding like something a community band would play on a Sunday afternoon concert in a park. It sounded great on this organ, bringing out all its personality. We then had a hymn sing of some early Western Pennsylvania hymns.
After dinner, the final concert of the convention was held at Eastminster Presbyterian Church. The organ was a 4-manual, 1955 Aeolian-Skinner, Opus 1266 with six divisions, situated at the front of the church. The Steinway Model D was courtesy of Trombino Piano Gallerie. Performers were Neal Stahurski, organ, and Yeeha Chiu, piano. Stahurski began the evening with an arrangement of Simple Gifts by Charles Callahan that was grand and spacious and would please most any congregation. Chiu then played two pieces by Chopin: Polonaise in C-sharp Minor, op. 26, no. 1, and Waltz in C-sharp Minor, op. 64, no. 2. She is a fine player and showed good attention to musical detail and line.
Stahurski returned to play a Gerald Near arrangement of the Largo from Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor, which featured piano and organ. I especially liked the beautiful Oboe stop, which sounded delightful alongside a solo flute in this very familiar music. We then heard the organ alone in a three-movement Suite by Jehan Alain. I. Introduction et Variations used flutes and soft foundation stops in dialogue; the variations explored other sounds in the organ. II. Scherzo began on a flute stretching into the octatonic-scale harmonies Alain loved so much. Then the quicker notes took over and he leapt about on the Swell reeds, and played with great flourish! III. Chorale began with widely spaced chords. Stahurski controlled it all very well, leading to a full sound, then backing away. A crashing big chord brought to a close.
A piano piece followed that was not listed, and I did not catch the name. Then Duo Concertant for piano and organ by Naji Hakim; they played the second movement, Andante. It is very clever, bouncy music that used the piano and organ sonorities quite well. The organ registrations were snappy and charming. Both piano and organ sounded surprisingly well in the heavily cushioned and carpeted room. We then heard piano and organ in an arrangement by David Schwoebel of It is well with my soul. If your church sings this hymn, they will enjoy this grand setting. Pure Technicolor! We then sang Eternal Father, Strong to Save. Stahurski played it very well; his last verse was ablaze with light and color.
The concert ended with Dupré’s Variations on two themes for piano and organ, op. 35, which used a host of colors from the instruments. Challenging music for both artists: the organ sounding like an orchestra in both a leading and subordinate role, the piano, likewise. This was a brilliant end to the concert and to the convention.

Overall, it was a good convention. The hotel, food, transportation, venues, instruments, and artists were first rate. The 186-page Atlas was filled with fascinating essays, information, and fine photography; the program booklet was well laid out—I liked the performers’ bios and photographs at the back of the book, saving more space for specifications and programs; and the hymnlets were large and easy to read. My hat is off to the fine committee who put the convention together and made it run smoothly.
For future conventions, I would suggest that there be consistency in the listing of something as simple as number of stops and ranks. That is not always apparent. Also, OHS convention speakers should wait until everyone is seated before making announcements, use a microphone, and talk slowly, especially in reverberant rooms. Buses should not move about during concerts when church windows are open, thus ruining recordings and performances. Finally, I’d like us to go back to the practice of ringing the churches’ bells before the concerts start. It is another introduction to a musical and often historical sound the building can make.
I look forward to this summer when the OHS will be in Washington, D.C. It should be another fine event! OHS conventions are always a great bargain, with world-class instruments and performers, outstanding scholarship, and great food. Everything is done for you. See you in D.C.! ■

Photos by Len Levasseur

Margaret Sandresky is a graduate of Salem Academy and College with a major in organ performance. She earned a master’s degree in composition with a minor in organ at the Eastman School of Music, and later received a Fulbright Grant for the study of organ with Helmut Walcha at the Hochschule für Musik in Frankfurt am Main, Germany. She has held positions at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, the University of Texas at Austin, the North Carolina School of the Arts, and at Salem College where she is Emeritus Professor of Music. Her articles have been published in The Journal of Music Theory, Music Theory Spectrum, The American Liszt Society Journal, Ars Organi, and The American Organist. Her seven volumes of organ music are published by Wayne Leupold Editions, and her anthems are published by Paraclete Press. In 2004, she received the Distinguished Composer award given at the AGO convention in Los Angeles, and in 2006 was honored by St. Andrews College with the Sam Ragan Award for distinguished service to the Arts in North Carolina.

In the summer of 1829, after an extended journey through the British Isles with his friend Klingemann, the twenty-year-old Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy completed his trip with a visit in Wales, where he made sketches, now lost, of the piece he intended to present to his “dear little sister,” Fanny, as a special gift for her wedding to William Hensel on October 3.1
Back in London, he met with an accident on September 17, seriously injuring his leg when he was hit by a light horse-drawn vehicle he called a “stupid little gig.”2 On September 25, he wrote his mother that he had “thought of a splendid idea” for Fanny’s wedding piece, but now he wouldn’t be able to present it until after the wedding.3 By November 6, he wrote his father that he had been laid up in bed for five weeks, was just going out for his first drive, and could almost walk without crutches.4
It was during this time that he completed the proposed piece for Fanny’s wedding. Since the final working manuscript is either lost or in private hands, the only available music is a sketch, now in the Bodleian Library. It is written on two staves, the bottom staff mostly blank, the top staff outlining the melody and briefly indicating the harmony.5 This is unmistakably the same material that appears as the opening and closing sections of Mendelssohn’s Sonata III. Many years later, when he was assembling material for the organ sonatas, he inserted between the sections two fugues with the chorale Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir (“In deep need I cry to thee”) as a cantus firmus.
The outer sections form two strong A-major homophonic pillars surrounding the two inner fugues in A minor, which, by means of their dark chromatics, jagged rhythms and tumbling 16th notes, seem contrastingly very dark and stormy. In each fugue, after the exposition for four voices in the manuals is completed, the chorale melody is introduced in the pedal as a fifth voice.
The second movement that closes the work is a simple song form. The two movements must have been conceived together, since they are dated August 9 and 17, 1844, probably while he was still vacationing in Bad Soden near Frankfurt, where his wife’s family lived. The use of this particular chorale, its stark contrast to the A-major sections, and why it is spread over the two fully developed fugues are questions that are discussed in the following paragraphs.
Mendelssohn was only seven years old when his wealthy and cultivated Jewish parents had their children baptized at the Neue Kirche in Berlin. In these early years, the music and worship of the Lutheran Church must have had a profound influence on him, for his use of Lutheran chorales as well as his interest in the organ and his dazzling performances on that instrument testify to an enduring love for this music throughout his life. By the time he was twelve, he was studying Bach fugues and writing one of his own as shown in the following charming note to his teacher, August Wilhelm Bach.

Berlin, the third day of the lovely month of May, 1821.
What does the sexton say, my dear Herr Bach? Can we play this afternoon? Or is there a wedding? or a confirmation . . . Greetings to the Prelude and Fugue in G Minor. I am presently sweating over an organ fugue, which will come forth into the world within the next few days. My heartfelt greetings to all the principal (sic) pipes, yours faithful (sic),
F. Mendelssohn6

Aus tiefer Noth
Mendelssohn showed an early interest in “Aus tiefer Noth” by composing a cantata on the chorale in 1830, a year after his English journey. Then on his travels in 1831, he must have been particularly interested when he found a copy of the Sebastian Bach organ chorale prelude on the same melody.
He wrote the following to his sister, Fanny, on her birthday, November 14, 1831, from Frankfurt am Main:

Oh my dear little sister and musician . . . I want to give you one of the unbelievingly [sic] moving Seb. Bach organ pieces which I just got to know here . . . Now play this chorale with Beckchen [another sister] . . . and think of me. . . . NB. The chorale is with double pedal.
Bach composed only one chorale prelude with double pedal, so Mendelssohn must be referring to Bach’s setting of “Aus tiefer Noth.”7
The chorale itself, composed by Martin Luther in 1523–4, was the first one for which Luther wrote both words and music. (Example 1) The previous year he had composed his first melody, to the poem “Ein neues Lied wir heben an,” after two young martyrs were immolated in Brussels, Belgium. “Aus tiefer Noth” stems from the same time.8 Luther’s poem is taken from Psalm 130, De Profundis, a psalm of redemption. Since metrical translations in English hymnals, by their very nature, cannot be specific, the following is my literal translation and, though awkward, may be helpful in grasping Luther’s meaning.

Verse I
Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir,
Herr Gott, erhör mein Rufen.
Dein gnädig Ohren kehr zu mir,
und meiner Bitt sie offen;
denn so du willst das sehen an
was Sünd und Unrecht ist getan,
wer kann, Herr, vor dir bleiben?

In deepest need I cry to thee,
Lord give ear to my cry.
Thy gracious ear incline to me,
And to my plea be open;
Then as you are sure to watch,
What sin and lawlessness is done,
Who can, Lord, stand before you?

Verse V
Ob bei uns ist der Sünden viel,
bei Gott ist viel mehr Gnade;
sein Hand zu helfen hat kein Ziel,
wie gross auch sei der Schade.
Er ist allein der gute Hirt
der Israel erlösen wird
aus seinen Sünden allen.9

Though by us there be many sins,
By God is much more grace.
His hand will help us without fail,
However great the peril.
He is alone the shepherd good,
Who will release Israel
From all her sins.

Bach’s chorale prelude is found in his Clavier Übung Part III in the section of Catechism chorales, and represents the sacrament of confession and forgiveness, known in the Lutheran Church as the Office of the Keys. It is the form for the confession and absolution of sin and derives its name from Matthew 16:19 and John 20:21–23.10
Mendelssohn’s early cantata on “Aus tiefer Noth,” op. 23, no. 1, published in 1832, takes its pattern and style from the cantatas of J. S. Bach. It is in five movements, one movement for each verse of the five verses of text. The first and last verses are set in a simple chorale harmonization, the second and fourth are a fugue and a chorale prelude with introduction, and the middle movement is for three solo voices with chorus and organ. Although “Aus tiefer Noth” is in the Phrygian mode, the cantata is firmly in F minor, and the cadences avoid any trace of the Phrygian in their strong tonality. The contrapuntal writing is a perfect model of 18th-century counterpoint.

The fugues of Sonata III
In the later Sonata III, the Phrygian character of the chorale is retained. (Example 2) Here Mendelssohn presents the chorale in the pedal transposed to A minor, inserting a B-flat before the A at the proper cadence points; and at the close of the second phrase (mm. 46–47), he uses a Phrygian cadence harmonizing the B-flat to A pedal as IV/6 to V in D minor. On the other hand, where this phrase is repeated in the second fugue, the B-flat to A is harmonized in the key of G minor as I/6 to VII/6 (mm. 69–70) and is not at a cadential point in the overall work. However, the final cadence (m. 92) is Phrygian, IV/6 to V/9, and introduces a long pedalpoint leading into the pedal cadenza.
The expositions of the two fugues illustrate two different aspects of Mendelssohn’s fugal writing. (Example 3) In the first fugue, the exposition (m. 24) follows traditional fugal procedure. Scale steps 5–6 at the beginning of the subject are answered by scale steps 1–3 (m. 28). The order of entry is bass, tenor, alto, soprano. After the exposition, the chorale enters in the pedal, overlapping the last measure of the answer. The chorale is split between the two fugues. Phrase one, phrase two, and the repetition of phrase one are presented in the first fugue, and the fugue closes with a half cadence in A minor, composed of a Neapolitan sixth chord going to a dominant ninth followed by a five-measure pedalpoint.
It is worth noting that because Mendelssohn decided to make his two fugue subjects compatible as invertible counterpoint and to bring them together near the end of the second fugue, he designed them both on the same vertical sonority, the V/vii7. (Example 4) Thus it was convenient to divide his cantus firmus between the fugues at a point where the dominant could function in both places, with the result that he did not follow the rhyme scheme of the text or the form of the chorale, which is abab-ccd, but split it after the repetition of the second phrase, aba-bccd. (See Example 2.)
In contrast to the scholarly correctness of the first fugue, Mendelssohn seems to have designed the second one with Romantic fervor, avoiding scholarly constraints and directing the performer to play with gradually more and more animation. The A-minor subject beginning on scale steps 5-6-5 (m. 58) and outlining a dominant/diminished area, tumbles down in 16th notes to C-sharp, throwing it into the subdominant key of D minor by means of this chromaticism. One remembers here that in the old modal system, D really would have been the dominant of the Phrygian on A. These events present two problems for the tonal system, solved traditionally by answering scale steps 5-6-5 with 1-3-2 and by returning the modulating subject to the proper key in the answer. Mendelssohn does neither.
Since the modulating pitch, C-sharp, is the very last note of the tenor subject, whose proper tonal answer, 1-3-2 in the alto, would force a cross relation between the C-sharp and a C-natural, the situation requires deft and imaginative treatment. (See Example 3.) Mendelssohn gives the alto a real answer (m. 60). However, in order to halt the continuous modulation of subject and answer and not stray too far from the main key, he ends his real answer by writing an F-natural instead of F-sharp, thus preparing for the third entry of the subject in the soprano and remaining in D minor. Here, one may be surprised to hear a tonal subject, scale steps 1-3-2 in D minor (m. 62); but the subject, placed now in the highest voice, sounds exciting, overarching, overreaching, and not like a misplaced answer. The fourth entry in the bass (m. 64) is then a real answer to a tonal subject; and this upside down arrangement ending in D minor effectively prepares the two measures of chromatic secondary dominant-seventh chords leading from the exposition to the entrance in the pedal of the fourth phrase of the chorale, where he is heading temporarily for F minor.

The outer sections of Sonata III
Under analysis, the principal thematic material in the opening and closing sections of the sonata seems drawn from the opening phrase of the chorale, whose first interval of a descending perfect fifth from E to A appears, now in the key of A major and filled in stepwise, as the opening gesture of the main theme. (Example 5) This “filled in” fifth dominates Mendelssohn’s thinking here, for it occurs some twenty times during the course of this section. The same pitches also appear in measure two of the second movement. Again, in the first phrase of the chorale, the ascending leap of a fifth moving up a half step to the sixth degree of the scale may be interpreted as the interval of a sixth appearing in several places throughout the sonata. First, it occurs between measures one and two of the opening theme; second, it appears twice at the recapitulation in the pedal from low C-sharp to A and then up to F-sharp. Finally, it appears as the first two pitches of the second movement. The chorale provides one other motive. Compare the scale steps 5-6-5 in the first two measures of the chorale to the subjects of each fugue.
Such an analysis, then, shows that the entire movement, and in a broader sense the entire work, can be viewed as evolving from one theme, that of the chorale, and not from separate ideas. This coincidence presents a conundrum: did Mendelssohn either consciously or unconsciously have the “Aus tiefer Noth” chorale in his head during the closing weeks of his English journey, and turn it into a joyful bridal piece by filling in the melodic skeleton and changing the mode? Then years later, did he decide to expand Fanny’s piece into the Sonata III? This would explain the juxtaposition of seemingly disparate parts, the wedding piece, the chorale, and the fugues. But why put them together?

Why “Aus tiefer Noth”?
One answer may lie in the important significance the music of Mendelssohn’s faith had in his life. For example, in the top right-hand corner of many pieces he wrote “Hilf du mir” or “H.d.m.” (“Help thou me”) before he began work. According to my Evangelisches Gesangbuch, “Aus tiefer Noth” is the chorale for the week of the eleventh Sunday after Trinity.11 Mendelssohn, in his letter of April 14, 1829 from Hamburg, where he made a visit before embarking on his first trip to England, wrote that he couldn’t comment on theatre and music in that city since everything was closed during Holy Week there.12 That would place the eleventh Sunday after Trinity near August 25, just the time when he was in Wales, where he wrote a long letter to his father that day from Llangollen, in which said he had “done a little composing.”13 These documents show how he could have decided to use the chorale for that week as the basis for a triumphant expression of joy celebrating Fanny’s marriage. Years later, as he assembled the sonatas, remembering the relation of the chorale to Fanny’s piece, he added two fugues over the same chorale.
Why two fugues rather than just one? Could it be that Mendelssohn was thinking of the two fugues as a memory of the two young martyrs who influenced Martin Luther’s first complete chorale, “Aus tiefer Noth”??

Robert August is director of music/organist at First Presbyterian Church of Fort Worth, Texas. Previously he was assistant university organist and choirmaster at The Memorial Church at Harvard University, during doctoral studies at the New England Conservatory of Music. A native of the Netherlands, he has an extensive background in historical performance. August has served as carillonneur at Brigham Young University, and as organist and conductor at churches in the Netherlands and the United States. In addition to collaboration with artists such as Yo-Yo Ma, Christopher Hogwood, and Simon Carrington, he has performed in Europe and the United States as a solo artist and accompanist, including tours and CD recordings with the Harvard University Choir and the Harvard Baroque Chamber Orchestra. Robert and his wife, flutist Dolores August, often collaborate on modern and period instruments.

This is a work that has occupied
me for the whole of the previous year in an effort to make it worthy of the lofty name it bears. It is also a work which, I believe, is likely to outlive my other creations the longest.”1 This was Schumann’s description of the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH, op. 60, in a letter to his publisher, after completion of the final fugue. Schumann took great care and pride in the six fugues, but his prediction could not have been more off target as the fugues are rarely performed anymore. Rather, they have become the topic of ongoing discussions about Schumann’s mental state in relation to the quality of his output.
The notion that the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH are of lesser quality than the majority of Schumann’s oeuvre seems to be based on largely subjective analyses. Such subjectivism is not uncommon in art and music, as is evident in Albert Schweitzer’s discussion of J.S. Bach’s Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582: “He [Bach] saw clearly, however, that on the whole the incoherency of this kind of work was not suitable to the greatest organ music, and he ventures upon the experiment only with this colossal theme.”2 In Schweitzer’s opinion, the Passacaglia was a compositional failure that did not compare to Bach’s other organ works.
Robert Schumann was of a different opinion: “After a pause, these [organ compositions] were followed by the Passecaille in C Minor (with 21 variations, intertwined so ingeniously that one can never cease to be amazed) admirably handled in the choice of registers by Mendelssohn.”3 Schweitzer’s and Schumann’s remarks, published roughly sixty years apart, could not be more contradictory.
Why is it that the Passacaglia can render such opposing views, especially by two men known for their deep respect and understanding of Bach’s music?4 With regard to Schweitzer, we cannot be sure if his comments were the result of a somewhat subjective analysis, but he undoubtedly would not have published his findings unless he believed them to be correct.5 Schumann’s opposing remarks are fascinating as well. They not only provide us with his opinion of the Passacaglia but also unveil his often-overlooked understanding of the organ.
Tragically, Schumann’s organ works, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH, op. 60, have often been deemed ‘unworthy’ and are repeatedly criticized or, perhaps worse, omitted from Schumann biographies. Op. 60 is systematically neglected and misinterpreted, often as a result of careless research. It is undoubtedly the most disputed cycle Schumann ever composed. Despite a number of favorable articles, a flow of negative writings remains consistent.6 Numerous articles on the six fugues are based on flawed research and, in some cases, pre-existing articles. Biographers often use Schumann’s mental condition to explain the lack of quality in the six fugues, conveniently ignoring the fact that Schumann produced some of his best works during the same period, including the Symphony in C Major and the Piano Concerto in A Minor.7

A musical cure
A general misconception of Schumann’s organ works seems to have carried well into the 20th and 21st centuries, as several of even the most recent Schumann biographers merely reference the fugues rather than opening up a dialogue or deeper discussion. Schumann’s organ works are neglected in several “comprehensive” Schumann biographies. Alan Walker, e.g., speaks favorably of the 1845/46 compositions in general, but omits op. 60 altogether.8 George Dadelsen describes the six fugues as “appallingly monotonous” while trying to compete with Bach’s Art of Fugue.9 Other biographers carelessly mislabel op. 60; Marcel Brion describes the Four Fugues on the name of Bach, op. 72,10 while John Worthen writes: “In April he began writing his Six Fugues for Organ on B-A-C-H (op. 60), a sequence interrupted only by the arrival of a rented pedal-piano which allowed him to write works for keyboard and pedal which did not require an organ.”11 Schumann, in fact, did not interrupt his fugal writing. Instead, a pedal attachment for the piano was hired to practice organ.12 Eric Jensen makes a similar mistake: “Schumann rented a pedal piano—a piano fitted with pedals for the feet like an organ—in order to become familiar with the technique involved.”13
Although Schumann was by no means an accomplished organist like Mendelssohn, he did have a deep understanding of the instrument, as is evident in numerous sources.14 Robert Schauffler claims that the fugues were mere play: “To Schumann at the height of his career, such exercises [contrapuntal studies] were mere play. While diverting him, they used up so little of his true creative power that, with the approach of warm weather, he was able to throw himself into making two of his chief masterpieces: the Piano Concerto and the C Major Symphony.”15 Schauffler continues:

Schumann must have felt in his bones that fugal writing was not in his line; for not until 1839 did he compose his first published attempt, that unsuccessful experiment, the Fughette, op. 32, no. 4. He gave out nothing more of the sort until the nervous collapse of 1845, during which he wrote works that look passing strange in a catalogue of his music.16

After a short description of Schumann’s contrapuntal works of 1845, Schauffler writes:

The composer’s nervous collapse had been aggravated by the too intense labor and excitement of his years of song, symphony, and chamber music. One suspects that when, as he wrote Mendelssohn on July 17th, 1845, ‘an onslaught of terrifying thoughts’ had brought him to try his hand at fugal writing, very much as we of today would cajole a nervous invalid into doing crossword puzzles, to take his mind from his troubles. The very fact that Schumann’s intensely subjective nature made it almost impossible for him to give of his best in this formal, objective style allowed him to play with these contrapuntal forms without expending too much energy.17
Peter Ostwald too, believes that the contrapuntal works of 1845 were exercises to improve the composer’s mental condition:

Despite his physical and psychological complaints, Schumann was beginning to do some composing again, but it was mainly the sort of counterpoint exercises he had relied on, as a way of settling his mind, during earlier depressive episodes. He rented a special musical instrument, called a pedal piano, that “has an extra set of strings and hammers, making it easier to play fugues, and worked on Bach for a while.”18

While Ostwald does not stand alone in his opinion of Schumann’s mental state in relation to the compositions of the contrapuntal year of 1845, one cannot but wonder why they, in particular the organ works, have methodically been deemed inferior. Ostwald also writes:

Before the trip with Clara, in August 1845, Schumann had composed several fugues based on the name BACH, and he published an impressive amount of contrapuntal work later that year and the next. The six BACH Fugues in particular must have required enormous concentration, since not only are they based on a musical relationship between Bach’s name and the notes of each fugue subject, but they also incorporate an intricate mathematical system, the so-called Bach numbers, which Bach himself had used to provide cohesion in his contrapuntal work.19

With all due respect to Mr. Ostwald, his findings are based on pre-existing, flawed research. Though Schumann indeed incorporated certain Baroque principles in his organ works, Peterson’s attempt to attribute “Bach numbers” to the fugues holds no ground. Similar misguided assumptions have been applied to Bach’s music as well, claiming for example, that Bach had left clues in his music in regards to his own date of death.20 Despite his intrigue with Bach numbers, Peterson’s opinion of the fugues as a whole is less than favorable: “Schumann’s fugal writing seems, in spite of his studies, to have been a contrivance which he discarded when he felt hampered by it, even in a work entitled ‘fugue’.”21 Stephen Walsh provides us with a similar statement: “Even in the finest passages of op. 60 one is aware of a certain impersonal quality about the writing.”22
A recent biography by John Worthen reads: “This [study of counterpoint] was, after all, a musical cure; one that involved creating music on the page, after the enforced dry period of the autumn of 1844.”23 Worthen continues with some blatant assumptions:
Such music insisted on structure and pattern, rather than on the harnessing and expression of emotion and melody which had made the work on Faust so exhausting. The fugal music could be worked out logically and tunefully, within its own very narrow confines. Its very limitations offered freedom from excitement.24
What Worthen exactly means by ‘tunefully’ remains uncertain. As an analysis of the fugues will demonstrate, his claim that the fugues are confined or free from excitement could not be farther removed from the truth. Worthen’s next statement too, is completely false: “At any rate, the ‘quiet’ neo-Baroque music that engaged Schumann in the spring and early summer of 1845 may have been a rather narrowly focused sequence of works to occupy the composer of the Finale zu Faust, but it had served the purpose of getting him back into composing.”25 As we will see in the following discussion, the perception of Schumann’s contrapuntal studies as mere therapeutic tools has remained a common yet flawed assumption for over a century.

Schumann and Bach
An aversion to the organ works is routinely linked to Schumann’s mental illness, while some scholars maintain that Schumann simply was not a real contrapuntist, and that his knowledge of counterpoint was quite moderate. Though the number of unfavorable commentaries seems perhaps overwhelming, it is interesting to make the comparison with—at least as many—complimentary testimonials. Schumann’s studies in counterpoint commenced well before composing the six fugues. The numerous entries in the diaries and household books depict Schumann as a prodigious student of Bach works and contrapuntal techniques (see Appendix 1). Schumann seems to have taken a natural liking to Bach’s music, perhaps enhanced by the Bach revival of the early 19th century. Leon Plantinga writes:
He [Schumann] subscribed to a rather deterministic view of history in which a central tradition in music could be expected to develop in certain orderly and predictable ways. For him this tradition, for all practical purposes, had its beginning in Bach, the first in a series of monumental composers whose personal contributions comprised the locus of an inevitable line of progress leading to his own time. This line extended through Beethoven and Schubert to Schumann’s own contemporaries.26
This ‘extended line’ manifests itself in the organ fugues as Schumann reaches back to older forms while engaging in a new kind of fugal writing. Though Schumann was not the first composer to incorporate the famous BACH theme, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH comprise the first significant cycle of organ works of its kind, soon to be followed by Liszt, Reger, and many more. For Schumann, studies in the Art of Fugue were crucial in the genesis of the organ fugues. As Gerhard Weinberger writes:
The overall conception, the thematic material and the extremely high quality of the writing all derive from Bach; this fugue cycle represents the end of a developmental phase which culminated in Schumann’s study of Bach’s music (the six fugues may be viewed directly as modeled in the Art of Fugue) and of the fugue per se.27
Weinberger continues: “Nevertheless, the fugues are by no means derivative stylistic copies, but effective ‘character fugues’ in the romantic vein.”28 An interesting detail is the fact that Schumann, despite his admiration of Bach, deemed the Art of Fugue too intellectual. His view in this matter may be explained by his famous quote:
The best fugue will always be the one that the public takes for a Strauss waltz; in other words, a fugue where the structural underpinnings are no more visible than the roots that nourish the flower. Thus a reasonably knowledgeable music-lover once took a Bach fugue for a Chopin etude—to the credit of both! Thus, too, one could play for many a maiden the last part of one of the Mendelssohn fugues and call it one of the Lieder ohne Worte. The charm and tenderness of the figures are such that she would never be reminded of churches and fugues.29
This last comment is fascinating. “Never be reminded of churches” is a telling statement that says a lot about the Zeitgeist, since churches and fugues are so strongly connected here, and in such a harsh way.
Schumann’s interest in the organ was steeped in a deep admiration for Bach. In the April 1842 issue of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik he wrote: “ . . . At our next meeting, a volume of well-executed fugues would please us more than another one full of sketches. At this royal instrument, the composer must have learned the value of clearly defined artistic form, such as that given to us by Bach in the largest as well as smallest works.”30 Three years earlier Schumann wrote: “But it is only at his organ that he [Bach] appears to be at his most sublime, most audacious, in his own element. Here he knows neither limits nor goal and works for centuries to come.”31 Schumann’s organ fugues, thus, are not a byproduct of mental exercises. They are carefully crafted works, based on a long tradition.
Approaching fugal composition from a new (Romantic) perspective, Schumann felt that he had created works that were truly unique. Like Bach himself, Schumann united the old and new, resulting in six spectacular character pieces. After all, according to Schumann, “Most of Bach’s fugues are character pieces of the highest kind; in part truly poetic creations,”32 and Schumann’s fugues were no different. In the diaries Schumann refers to Bach’s compositions repeatedly. He seemed to be concerned with preserving and reviving Bach’s legacy, which, according to Hans T. David, “. . . by invoking the name of Bach again and again, helped gain for Bach’s work a secure place in the minds of educated musicians.”33 In addition to the Bach legacy, Schumann was concerned with preserving his own legacy. His preferred medium in this—the fugue—is easily explained by his lifelong admiration of Bach’s keyboard fugues. Charles Rosen gives a second reason for Schumann’s choice: “In the nineteenth century, the fugue had become a demonstration of conventional mastery, a proof of craftsmanship. Besides competing with Beethoven, Schumann conforms to the standard pattern of fugue laid down by Cherubini.”34
In addition to Bach’s keyboard fugues, at least two more sources play an important role in Schumann’s contrapuntal output: Marpurg’s Abhandlung von der Fuge (1753) and Cherubini’s Cours de Contrepoint et de Fugue (1835). Federhofer and Nauhaus write:

The composer’s concern with counterpoint began during his ‘apprenticeship’ with Heinrich Dorn (1804-1892) in the years 1831/32, and bore its first fruits in his exercise books. Schumann subsequently turned his attention to F.W. Marpurg’s Abhandlung von der Fuge [Treatise on Fugue], parts of which he studied again, albeit reluctantly, in the autumn of 1837, along with Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. This independent study is reflected, in an artistically transmuted form, in the book of Fugengeschichten [Fugal matters] (November 1837) which is at present held at the Robert Schumann Haus in Zwickau.35
According to the Haushaltbücher, the Schumanns’ studies of Cherubini’s treatise commenced April 6, 1845, the same month Robert finished the first two organ fugues. Cours de Contrepoint et de Fugue is largely based on Bach works and clearly serves as a point of departure for Schumann’s organ fugues. Two and a half weeks later, on April 24, Clara describes the rented pedal board for their piano: “. . . we obtained on hire a pedal to be attached below the pianoforte, and from this we received great pleasure. Our chief object was to practice organ playing.”36 Both Robert and Clara enjoyed the organ, but it seems that the intent was to study organ rather than becoming concert organists like Mendelssohn. Clara by then was a renowned concert pianist, while Robert had given up keyboard playing some fifteen years earlier, due to his numb finger.
A combination of counterpoint studies, a deep admiration for Bach, and a great appreciation for the organ finally resulted in the counterpoint episodes of 1845. In regards to Schumann’s organ compositions, Joachim Draheim writes, “The exceptional importance and originality of these fugues were long insufficiently appreciated, although they belong to the very few truly distinctive organ compositions from the first half of the 19th century, together with Mendelssohn’s Organ Sonatas, op. 65, to which they owe certain impulses.”37 Besides generating an artistic legacy, Schumann may have anticipated commercial success from his contrapuntal output; works for pedal piano were hardly available, and Schumann made sure he was among the first to write for the instrument, ensuring a ‘head start’ in any possible financial gain. The six fugues were, like Mendelssohn’s organ sonatas, among the very few serious organ compositions of their time, and the first large cycle of organ fugues on the name of BACH. And as Schumann himself points out, the organ fugues can also easily be performed on piano (four hands). Schumann cleverly published opp. 56, 58 and 60 as works for pedal piano or organ, most likely to enhance sales. However, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH lacked (financial) success, and remain Schumann’s only attempt at organ composition. Schumann, however, was very pleased with his contrapuntal endeavors. A letter of 8 February 1847 to his friend Carl Ferdinand Becker illustrates Schumann’s satisfaction with the six fugues: “I have never polished and worked so long on any composition of mine as on this one in order to make it worthy of the illustrious name which it bears.”38

Mendelssohn
Like Mendelssohn, Schumann favored a modern fugal type steeped in the Bach tradition, yet combined with a poetic flavor. As Plantinga points out: “It was the particular genius of Mendelssohn, Schumann said, to show that successful fugues could still be written in a style that was fresh and yet faithful to its Bachian and Handelian models; these fugues hold to the form of Bach, he felt, though their melody marks them as modern.”39 Already a famous conductor, composer and organist, Mendelssohn wrote his Three Preludes and Fugues, op. 37 in 1836–37. Later, in 1844–45, he wrote the Six Sonatas, op. 65. As Klaus-Peter Richter points out, the motivic resemblances between Mendelssohn’s and Schumann’s organ works are more than obvious.40 In reference to Mendelssohn’s fugues of the six sonatas,41 Schumann writes: “I do not wish to indulge in blind praise, and I know perfectly well that Bach made fugues of quite a different sort. But if he were to rise from the grave today, he would, I am sure—having delivered himself of some opinions about the state of music in general—rejoice to find at least flowers where he had planted giant-limbed oak forests.”42
Mendelssohn’s organ works were well received by critics43 and may have generated Schumann’s contrapuntal aspirations, though Schumann may have chosen a slightly different path to avoid comparison with Mendelssohn’s compositions; in addition to writing the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH he wrote a set of canons and sketches for the pedal piano.44 Schumann hoped to be among the first to publish works for this relatively new instrument, ensuring financial and artistic gain. Including the piano as an optional instrument for performance of the fugues, sketches, and canons aided Schumann in several ways; it bypassed the archaic reputation of the organ while marketing the music for the most widely used keyboard instrument of that time. An advertisement in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik states:

Some Studies and Sketches for the pianoforte with pedal will shortly be published from Robert Schumann. We would like to remind our readers that in our opinion, when once this combining of instruments finds general acceptance, performers will have the opportunity not only to return to the earlier art and bring classical organ works into private homes, but also discover many different uses for the pedal piano and accomplish new effects.45

Alas, the pedal piano never became the widely used instrument Schumann was hoping for, and none of the contrapuntal studies of 1845 were a financial success.

Schumann and the organ
The rise of the Enlightenment caused a great shift in the use of instruments in churches, the court, and at home. The new, galant style called for instruments capable of immediate and subtle changes in timbre and dynamics; hence, the piano became the new keyboard instrument of choice. The organ, as Schumann wrote, reminded people of “churches and fugues,” and was considered an archaic and static instrument. Despite its tainted status, Schumann proceeded to compose for the instrument, a decision that may be partially attributed to a long tradition; many post-Renaissance composers wrote larger works to preserve their name in history. Several of Bach’s sacred compositions, for example, were simply too long to be included in church services.46 Similarly, Mendelssohn, Brahms, and Schumann were not employed by the church, yet their output includes a large quantity of sacred works.47
Scholars have often blamed Schumann’s limited knowledge of the organ for the so-called poor quality of the organ works. However, Schumann knew the organ well, and his understanding of the instrument was in fact greater than most of his contemporaries. Russell Stinson recently uncovered an important document in regards to Schumann’s perception of Bach, as well as the organ. The Clara Schumann Bach Book offers a detailed list of Bach keyboard works from Schumann’s library and contains numerous detailed markings (corrections, registrations, etc.) in Schumann’s hand (see Appendices 2 and 3 on page 26).
The source is very specific and provides us with a list of Bach’s keyboard works that Schumann owned before the contrapuntal year of 1845. In one particular example Stinson points out: “In the case of the Clavierübung setting of ‘Vater unser, im Himmelreich,’ Schumann bracketed every phrase of the canon on the chorale melody, similar to how he analyzed fugues from the Well-Tempered Clavier.”48 The Vater unser chorale prelude is a compositional tour de force and one of Bach’s most complex organ works. Based on the many markings, this work must have had a great impact on Schumann. Schumann also corrected typographical errors and gave detailed descriptions about the use of stops, manual changes, as well as pitch designation, all of which demonstrate more than basic knowledge of the organ.49 As Stinson points out:
Just consider how Schumann annotated, from Part 3 of the Clavierübung, the manualiter setting of “Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir,” a work in which Bach subjects each phrase of the chorale tune to a complex fugal exposition before stating the melody in augmentation in the soprano voice. Following Bach’s constant use of inversion and stretto, Schumann bracketed, in addition to each phrase of the chorale proper, every one of the roughly forty fugal statements.50

The Clara Schumann Bach Book is an invaluable source, and for once and for all does away with the general misconception of Schumann’s limited knowledge of the organ. The evidence in Schumann’s personal library discloses both his interest and knowledge of Bach, the organ and counterpoint.

A new approach
Schumann was known to compose rather fast, but it took him from April to November to write the fugues. In the Diaries, Schumann writes:

I used to write most, practically all of my shorter pieces in [the heat of] inspiration; many compositions [were completed] with unbelievable swiftness, for instance, my First Symphony in B-flat Major [was written] in four days, as was a Liederkreis of twenty pieces [Dichterliebe]; the Peri too was composed in a relatively short time. Only from the year 1845 on, when I began to invent and work out everything in my head, did a completely new manner of composing begin to develop.51

This new manner of composing resulted in works that were based on a thorough, perhaps more intellectual approach. Schumann’s keyboard compositions of 1845 are often said to be more objective than his earlier compositions.52 That in itself is a subjective statement, and should be taken with a grain of salt. Traits of the younger Schumann can be found in any of the collections written in 1845, but they also expose a maturing composer. These are indeed contrapuntal works based on models by Bach, Marpurg, and Cherubini, but Schumann remained true to himself as a person and artist by combining the new with the old. The fugues exhibit a blend of sentiment (third fugue), restriction (fifth fugue), and excitement (second and sixth fugues). Schumann, as Weinberger says, “demonstrates the highest skill in contrapuntal writing, using all sorts of complicated polyphony culminating in the concluding double fugue. But at the same time he produced expressive compositions which he himself termed character pieces, but in the strict style.”53 Charles Rosen was right when he wrote, “Throughout his short musical life, Schumann produced his most striking works not by developing and extending Classical procedures and forms, but by subverting them, sometimes undermining their functions and even making them momentarily unintelligible.”54
The six fugues remain among the most unique works in the organ repertoire, and Schumann was well aware that these compositions differed from his earlier output. Having given up his old habit of composing at the piano, Schumann felt liberated. Daverio sheds more light on Schumann’s new manner of composing: “. . . it is perhaps better understood as a logical outgrowth of his approach to large-scale instrumental composition in the earlier 1840s rather than as a radical break.”55 Scholars have maintained the notion that Schumann’s oeuvre reflects several distinctly different compositional periods. Daverio’s opposing view, however, “explains” the six fugues in a nutshell:

Perhaps Schumann intermingled ‘subjective’ and ‘objective’ qualities throughout his career, but with varying degrees of emphasis, a hypothesis implying that the passage from a ‘subjective’ to an ‘objective’ phase was hardly abrupt. To insist on a hard and fast demarcation of style-periods in time is to miss the point, namely, that Schumann’s oeuvre unfolds in a series of sometimes parallel and sometimes overlapping phases. The products of his imagination may thus be viewed as points where divergent or complementary trends intersect.56

Von Wasilewski agrees with this view, pointing out the combination of strict form and a Romantic, poetic spirit:
Of the two sets of fugues (ops. 72 and 60), the latter, consisting of six fugues on the name of Bach, is of extraordinary merit. The first five fugues especially display so firm and masterly a treatment of the most difficult forms of art, that Schumann might from these alone lay claim to the title of a profound contrapuntist. They show variety of plastic power with four notes only. The tone of feeling varies in all six pieces, and is always poetic, which, in connection with a command of form, is the main point in composition. These are serious character pieces.57
Though the Canons and Sketches display a more intimate, subjective side of Schumann, the six fugues demonstrate a stronger balance between head (Eusebius) and heart (Florestan). Daverio’s and Von Wasilewski’s points of view are supported by the great variety of character in Schumann’s mid-1840s compositions.

Six Fugues on the Name of BACH
Schumann’s Six Fugues on the Name of BACH are the product of a carefully planned blueprint. Modeled after Bach’s examples, one might expect various Baroque elements in these pieces. Indeed, the fugues were conceived as a set of six, similar to many of Bach’s cycles (including many of his organ works).58 Such systematic arrangement of cycles containing six pieces was common in the Baroque era and, as Piet Kee points out, is rooted in numerology that goes back as far as Pythagoras.59 The use of number symbolism in music diminished substantially after the rise of the age of the Enlightenment, and despite Schumann’s use of ciphers (on several occasions) there is no evidence that points to the composer’s knowledge or intentional use of number symbolism. Schumann’s fugues, however, do reveal a consistent observance of the Golden Ratio. This number (0.6180339887…) is found in nature, music and art.60 Schumann’s knowledge of the Golden Ratio is not recorded anywhere, but based on the many examples found in his and his contemporaries’ music, it seems plausible that he was familiar with the concept. The use of the Golden Ratio though, so closely related to nature, seems to have prevailed through the Romantic period into our time.61 A close examination of the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH unveils Golden Ratio (G.R.) proportions (often multiple times) in each of the six fugues. These examples are often found within a measure of the exact G.R. When applying the G.R. to the number of measures in each fugue we see the following outcome:
Fugue I. The first fugue totals 64 measures. When we apply the G.R. to these 64 measures, we come to 64 x 0.61 = 39, or measure 39. This measure contains two consecutive subject entries in the pedals. A ‘reversed’ G.R. (counting 39 measures from the end) is found in m. 25, located between two more subject entries (the second being a false entry) in the pedals. NB: this fugue only contains two such double-pedal entries, each clearly defined by the Golden Ratio. In addition, the apex (c3) is reached first in m. 40 (one measure after G.R measure 39).62
Fugue II. The second fugue is 174 measures long; 174 x 0.61 = 106. In m. 106 new material is presented (ascending octaves/scales). A reversed G.R. leads us to m. 68, where the subject appears in the pedals (in its entirety) for the first time. Like several Bach compositions, this fugue contains Golden Ratios within Golden Ratios. The second fugue can be separated into three separate divisions: At m. 74 we see a clear separation in the music; there is a sudden dynamic change (from forte to piano), while the texture changes from chordal homophony to strict polyphony with the BACH motive in stretto. An inverted G.R. within that section highlights m. 29, where the exposition is stirred up by a repeat of the subject in the alto voice. This entry starts on B-flat, similar to the very first entry (slightly modified for harmonic purposes), but then suddenly shifts from a dux to a comes entity; the first four notes of the subject appear in dux form, while the remainder of the entry is presented in comes fashion. It is the only fugue in the cycle where Schumann applied (uniform) dynamic markings to each voice entry in the exposition, as to point out the exposition’s irregularity. Federhofer and Nauhaus point out that “. . . Schumann probably regarded the treatment of the ‘comes’ (different in each case) as depending on the character of the subject.”63 Mm. 75–121 mark the second division of the fugue, totaling 47 measures; 47 x 0.61 = 29 = m. 102, which is marked marcato while presenting new material. The fugue’s third division comprises mm. 123–174, totaling 53 measures. This section contains a reversed G.R. (counting 32 backwards) at m. 143. The score reveals a significant change in m. 143 as the music changes from a thin, three-part polyphonic to a full, chordal and homophonic texture.
Fugue III. The third fugue is the shortest one of the cycle, counting only 59 measures; 59 x 0.61 = 36. The G.R. is found in m. 36, where the music moves to the sub-mediant, E-flat major. A reversed G.R. points to m. 23; the end of the exposition. This five-voice fugue does not combine all five voices until close to the end, after the third (and final) pedal entry. Schumann uses the pedals to single out the Golden Ratio.
Fugue IV. The fourth fugue is 116 measures long; 116 x 0.61 = 71. M. 72 is marked fortissimo, the loudest dynamic marking in the fugue. Here the music also has a strong sense of forward motion (see endnote 64). The drastic change at m. 72 divides the piece into two sections. The second division, totaling 45 measures, unveils one more reversed G.R. at m. 92, where the music changes from a homophonic to a polyphonic texture.
Fugue V. The fifth fugue in the cycle totals 124 measures; 124 x 0.61 = 76, the beginning of the pedal tone F. When looking at that first section separately (mm. 1–76), we find yet another striking place; 76 x 0.61 = 46; in m. 46 the subject appears in the middle voice, while the BACH theme (in sustained note values) are presented—in stretto—in the bass and soprano voices. NB: this is the only time the BACH theme is played in the pedals. The fugue’s second part (mm. 76–124) contains one more G.R.; 49 (number of remaining measures) x 0.61 = 30, which appears exactly at the pedal point in m. 104. Additionally, the original subject appears in retrograde.
Fugue VI. 155 x 0.61 = 95. Measure 95 presents a clear statement of the subject in the pedals. A reversed Golden Ratio (95 from the end, rather than the beginning) leads us to m. 60. Schumann writes a clear break in the music at measure 59, immediately before introducing the second subject of this double fugue; the fugue’s two sections are separated by a quarter note rest and a double bar line, as well as a dynamic increase (più f). In addition, Schumann writes lebhafter (livelier). When we apply the G.R. formula to the first part of the fugue (the first 58 measures) we come to 58 x 0.61 = 35. One measure earlier the subject is first introduced in the relative minor key (G minor). Similar Golden Ratio divisions are found in the second part of the fugue (97 measures long): 97 x 0.61 = 59 (m. 117). In m. 116, just one measure earlier, Schumann clearly defines the break in the music after two (!) four-measure pedal points, when the BACH motive is re-introduced—this time in block chords. A reversed G.R. is found at mm. 95/96. In m. 95, after a three-measure pedal point, the fugue’s first subject appears first in the second part of the (double) fugue. Other changes involve a dynamic increase and the introduction of both subjects simultaneously.
The number of Golden Ratios in Schumann’s fugues is overwhelming, yet the question remains if they were intentionally ‘placed’ or if they are a mere compositional byproduct. Schumann’s organ compositions are an unusual blend of styles, which could easily generate an over-analytical approach. Peterson’s and van Houten’s previously mentioned findings are prime examples of such “determined research,” and one needs to be careful not to attribute music’s every single detail to a genius mind. In regards to Golden Ratio, perhaps the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Regardless of Schumann’s intentions, the number of G.R.s is remarkable and cannot be denied.

Styles
Schumann’s organization of the cycle reveals a fascinating blend of Baroque and Romantic principles. Burkhard Meischein points out the cycle’s sonata-like layout:
Fugue 1: Slow introduction
Fugue 2: Faster section
Fugues 3 and 4: Cantabile, slower section
Fugue 5: Scherzo
Fugue 6: Exciting, intensely growing finale64

Interestingly, Schumann’s Classic outline is not unlike Bach’s symmetrical organization of larger collections.65 Notice, for example, the symmetry in time signature, tempo, dynamics and texture (see Appendix 4).
The six fugues are based on the famous BACH theme that Bach himself had used in the final (incomplete) fugue of The Art of Fugue. As Daverio points out, “Though all the fugues incorporate the BACH theme, some of them use this theme merely as a starting point for a larger subject (see the subject of the second and fifth fugues).”66 Stinson discusses the many motivic similarities between Schumann’s opp. 56 and 60 and Bach’s organ works. The second fugue on BACH, for example, has occasionally been ridiculed for its elongated subject, but is analogous to BWV 575, which was published by Schumann in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik in February 1839.67 In Abhandlung von der Fuge, Marpurg discusses the proper treatment of fugue subjects:
I myself once heard him [Bach], when during my stay in Leipzig I was discussing with him certain matters concerning the fugue, pronounce the works of an old and hardworking contrapuntist dry and wooden, and certain fugues by a more modern and no less great contrapuntist—that is the form in which they are arranged for clavier—pedantic; the first because the composer stuck continuously to his principal subject, without any change; and the second because, at least in the fugues under discussion, he had not shown enough fire to reanimate the theme by interludes.68
While some of the subjects are indeed rather lengthy, Schumann seems to adhere to Bach’s examples, avoiding redundant (complete) repeats of fugue subjects. Similarly, rather than following conventional compositional techniques, Schumann used existing forms as a starting point for a more modern idiom. Thus, the amalgamation of old and new techniques generated compositions that were (and still are) anomalies in the organ repertoire, and may in part explain their unfortunate fate. A closer examination of the fugues reveals some very interesting patterns:
Fugue I. The first fugue initially follows the conventional exposition pattern, as each of the voices is introduced in the right order. However, when the fifth voice is introduced in m.12 (in the pedals), the alto part drops out, leaving a four-part texture before finishing the exposition. In fact, the five voices never appear together in contrapuntal passages. Schumann, undoubtedly aware of this atypical approach, applied the idiosyncrasy in five of the six fugues (the fifth being the exception). Throughout the cycle, both the core subject (the BACH motive) and the complete subjects appear in many different forms. Klaus Jürgen Sachs points out the repeatedly changing order of emphasized notes of the BACH motive.69 In the first fugue, for example, the motive appears straightforward in four half notes, with B-flat and C being the emphasized notes (B-flat and C appear on beats one and three in a 4/2 time signature). In m. 5 the same motive is presented in the alto voice, starting on the second beat rather than the first. This metrical displacement is typical of Schumann and is employed throughout the cycle.
Fugue II. In the second fugue we see a continuation of metrical shifts; starting in m. 3, the running sixteenth notes suggest a duple (2/4) rhythm in a 3/4 time signature. In m. 48 the first fugue’s subject is introduced in the pedals, combined with the second fugue’s main subject in the manuals. Schumann takes great liberty in the intervallic relationship between the first and second parts of the subject. The first part of the subject (BACH) starts on B-flat, while the second part (continuous sixteenth notes) follows at the sixth, on G.
This relationship remains consistent until m. 30, where Schumann separates the two motives by abandoning the intervallic connection. The two motives still appear together throughout the fugue, but the second part of the subject (its starting pitch) is modified for harmonic purposes.70
Fugue III. The third fugue appears to be a double fugue, but the second subject is never fully developed. Derived from the main subject, it might be conceived as a melodically and rhythmically weak countersubject. ‘Undermining’ the second subject may have been intentional, as Schumann’s focus seems to be mainly on the principal subject. Whereas the first two fugues were written in the key of B-flat major, the third is written in G minor. Bound by the initial BACH motive (centered around B-flat), Schumann may have used the countersubject as a means to establish the fugue’s tonality. This thought also explains the countersubject’s lack of development, as Schumann’s focus is on the principal subject. Of the six fugues, the third maintains the strictest counterpoint throughout, and never resorts to a homophonic texture.Fugue IV. In the fourth fugue Schumann for the first time deviates from the established BACH motive. Though still citing the same motive, the notes are ordered in a new manner, incorporating the interval of a sixth. There are a number of similarities between the fourth fugue and Schumann’s second symphony, which was written 1845–1846. The symphony’s Adagio exhibits chromatic elements similar to the BACH motive used in the six fugues,71 and even incorporates a (semi) exposition, starting at m. 62, using two subjects. The Adagio’s harmonic progression of m. 82 also appears in m. 100 of the fugue. Schumann must have been fond of the chord progression, repeating it several times (consecutively) in both pieces. Like the fugue, the Adagio reveals a striking G.R. (130 measures x 0.61 = 80) at m. 82, where the music—marked by a double bar line—suddenly shifts from C minor to C major.
Fugue V. The fifth fugue, the scherzo of the cycle, maintains a strictly polyphonic texture. The independent voice leading, combined with fast-moving eighth notes, makes for some daring harmonies. Similar writing is found in the second Duetto of Bach’s Clavierübung III, of which Schumann owned a copy. Schumann again takes some liberties in the exposition, as the fourth entry of the exposition starts on E-flat rather than F. In addition, the pedal entry consists of two short, repeated motives rather than the entire subject.
Fugue VI. Schumann ends the cycle with a majestic, five-part double fugue. Simultaneous use of duple and triple meter, combined with a gradual buildup of tension and grandeur, creates a strong sense of completion. Stinson claims that the fugue is based on Bach’s Fugue in E-flat Major, BWV 552, pointing out the similarities between the two fugues.72 Schumann, however, once again deviates from the Bach models and moves towards a thinner texture before the end of the exposition. In the second exposition (starting at m. 59), Schumann’s approach is unconventional too, but not without reason. As the second theme is introduced, Schumann holds off on the expected pedal entry of m. 67. Instead, he omits the pedals until much later, in m. 92, where a three-measure pedal point adds gradual tension, leading to the first pedal statement of the fugue’s first subject. As the pedals introduce the first subject, the second subject is played in the manuals, thus combining the fugue’s two themes. Towards the end of the fugue, starting at m. 116, the fugue shifts suddenly from a polyphonic to a homophonic texture. Daverio points out the motivic resemblance in Schumann’s second symphony: “Culminating in a chordal peroration on the B-A-C-H theme, the fugue’s coda at the same time prefigures a climactic passage in the Final (mm. 343ff.) of the second symphony.”73 Just like the first fugue, the final fugue concludes with a coda. In the first fugue, at m. 34, Schumann indicated: “gradually faster and louder.” In the final fugue he specified: “Moderate, gradually faster.” While a thinning in the texture of the first fugue’s coda seems to suggest a sudden quieting down of the music, the sixth fugue’s coda undoubtedly calls for full organ, ending the cycle in a grand, majestic manner.

Schumann and the pedal piano
As discussed earlier, Schumann’s main purpose for hiring a pedalboard was to practice playing the organ. He found, however, that the pedal piano had much potential and that it might develop as an independent instrument. It seems plausible, then, that Schumann’s output of 1845 was conceived for pedal piano, organ, or both. Though opp. 56 and 58 are clearly written for the pedal piano (Studies for the Pedal Piano and Sketches for the Pedal Piano, respectively), there seems to be a discrepancy in regards to op. 60, which is labeled Six Fugues on the Name of B-A-C-H without any further specification in regards to the instrument of choice. The cover of the 1986 Henle Urtext edition of opp. 56, 58 and 60 reads Works for Organ or Pedal Piano without any further specification. In its preface, Gerhard Weinberger explains that in the first publication op. 60 is referred to as an organ work.
Interestingly, in the 2006 Schott edition the three cycles are published as Schumann Organ Works. In the preface, the editor, internationally renowned organist Jean Guillou, writes: “Schumann composed these masterpieces as a pianist and he wrote them for the piano, allowing for the possibility that they might be performed on the organ, but not really envisaging the precise manner in which an organist might ‘translate’ them for the instrument.”74 Guillou’s edition provides the performer with registration and tempo markings that go well beyond the original. As useful as a performer’s edition may seem, one needs to keep in mind that such is the interpretation of one person, and one needs to be mindful of the composer’s intentions. Notwithstanding the usefulness of such an edition, Guillou seems to have overlooked a most important issue; unlike the Studies and Sketches, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH were written for the organ, not for the piano.
In the preface of the Henle edition Weinberger explains that the first edition refers to the six fugues as organ works.75 As we will see, the fugues are stylistically quite different than the other cycles. They lack, for example, the very pianistic approach, as found in the second and third canonic studies. Also, there is a drastic difference in the use of dynamics. Rather than the pianistic crescendos and decrescendos of opp. 56 and 58 (see the beginning of the fourth sketch), Schumann employs practical dynamic changes, easily realized through registration or manual changes.76 A compelling piece of evidence lies in the treatment of pedal points; Schumann frequently employs pedal points in both the piano and organ cycles. In the piano cycles Schumann repeats the pedal points every so often to ensure a continuous sounding of the bass note. Pedal points are never sustained longer than two measures.77 In the organ fugues Schumann writes pedal points for as long as twelve measures.78 Also, unlike opp. 56 and 58, op. 60 never exceeds the compass of the typical German Baroque organ, which may give us an idea of Schumann’s favored organ type. Hermann J. Busch points out that Mendelssohn preferred older organ types. For his first performance of the Six Sonatas for Organ, Mendelssohn chose an older instrument (Franz and Johann Michael II Stumm, 1779), while a modern instrument (a large Walcker organ) was available.79 Mendelssohn’s influence on Schumann as a composer and organist suggests that Schumann too may have favored older organ types, as is evidenced in Schumann’s comments in the diaries.80 Busch also points out that the majority of the organs known to Schumann were from the 18th century. These instruments were generally not equipped with a swell box. Crescendos therefore were realized by manual changes and/or adding stops.

Schumann the organist
It is obvious that Schumann took great pride in the six fugues. Rooted in a long tradition, stemming from his primary example, Bach, Schumann felt that he had contributed an important work that could stand the test of time. As Larry Todd points out: “Thus, Bach was memorialized in Schumann’s penchant for learned counterpoint, culminating in that erudite fugal compendium for organ, the Six Fugues on BACH, Op. 60 (1845).”81 How ironic then, that the cycle he had worked on for so long was received with such little approval. Perhaps Schumann would have been more successful if he, like Mendelssohn, had written organ sonatas rather than fugues. Rejcha perhaps explains the early 19th-century Zeitgeist best, saying “Since Handel and Corelli’s time, everything in music has changed two or three times, both in inner, as well as outer form. Only the fugue remains unaltered; and therefore—nobody wants to hear one.”82 Schumann, who “maintained with equal conviction that slavish imitation of older models was to be avoided,”83 must have thought that his organ works were indeed a breath of fresh air, as he expected them to outlive his other creations the longest.84 Notwithstanding their unfortunate fate, Schumann masterfully combined the old with the new. As Heinrich Reimann writes:

. . . the best proof of how deeply Schumann had penetrated, in thought and feeling, into the spirit of the Old Master. Everywhere the fundamental contrapuntal principles of Sebastian Bach are recognizable. They rise up like mighty pillars; but the luxuriant tendrils, leaves, and blossoms of a romantic spirit twine about them, partly concealing the mighty edifice, partly enlivening it by splendour of colour and varied contrast and bringing it nearer to modern taste. The most obvious proofs of this are:—The second fugue with the characteristic Schumann rhythmic displacement (2/4 time in triple rhythm); the fifth, with its subject on quite modern lines; and the last, with its romantically treated counter-subject.85

Though Schumann is perhaps remembered foremost as a composer of homophonic music, it is no coincidence that, as Nauhaus and Federhofer point out, Werner Krützfeld used two examples of Schumann’s Kreisleriana in Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart as examples of counterpoint.86 The Six Fugues on the Name of BACH mark an artistic high point in Schumann’s career, and one can only hope that these erudite compositions will eventually become part of the standard repertoire. A deeper understanding will perhaps spark a renewed interest in these wonderful pieces.

Frank Rippl is a graduate of Lawrence University Conservatory of Music, where he studied with Miriam Clapp Duncan and Wolfgang Rübsam. He is co-founder of the Appleton Boychoir, coordinator of the Lunchtime Organ Recital Series in the Appleton, Wisconsin area, and has been organist/choirmaster at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Appleton since 1971.

I arrived in Cleveland on July 5th with a mixture of emotions. I was glad to revisit a city I enjoyed many years ago when I took a summer course in Orff Schulwerk at Case Western Reserve University, but I was in a bit of a funk after my flight that was supposed to leave the day before was canceled. United’s friendly skies were shut down by a computer glitch. But I finally found myself in this beautiful city with its elegant buildings on Lake Erie. I give extra snaps to any city that has light rail service from its airport to the center of downtown. At the Marriott, I had a corner room with lots of windows and a great view of the famous Terminal Tower. I felt better. I was reminded of the quote our brochure had printed from an ad published by Cleveland organbuilder Walter Holtkamp, Sr. (1894–1962): “A town of good organs, a profitable place to visit.” After I registered, I looked over the 284-page convention Atlas, which contained extraordinary amounts of information on the organs, venues, and towns we were to visit. It began with a fascinating monograph by Stephen Pinel entitled “The Early Organ Culture of Cleveland,” loads of colorful pictures, and ads (including a reprinted one from long ago that featured Jesse Crawford promoting “Barbasol”).

Pre-convention concert
After greeting lots of old OHS friends, I boarded a bus for Trinity Episcopal Cathedral and a pre-convention event. The cathedral grew out of Cleveland’s oldest congregation, Trinity Church, founded in 1816. They built Cleveland’s first church in 1829. The present Indiana limestone building, designed by Cleveland architect Charles F. Schweinfurth in the English perpendicular Gothic design, was completed in 1907, and contains several bits of historic beauty: a 1457 cross beam from Southwark Cathedral, London, some windows from the 14th and 15th centuries as well as some by Tiffany, plus Oberammergau carvings. If that weren’t enough, they have two organs by Dirk Flentrop: a 2-manual, 13-stop organ from 1976 in the choir, and the 1977 3-manual, 39-stop instrument in a small gallery above the rear entrance. Horst Buchholz, cathedral organist, greeted us, as did Michael Barone, who would serve as an unofficial host throughout the week. He introduced convention chairperson Joseph McCabe, half of his former self. His weight loss was the envy of all of us. We then sang “O Beautiful for Spacious Skies,” it being July 5.

Both organs were used—Dr. Buchholz played the smaller choir organ and Alison Luedecke the larger organ at the other end of the building. Most of the concert was played by Dr. Luedecke, who began with a spirited reading of Bruhns’s well-known Praeludium in E minor—a great demonstration piece. Then came Pachelbel’s Variations on “Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele,” featuring one of the organ’s lovely cornets, and the clear 4′ flutes. Next was the Bach/Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, listed in the program as Prelude and Fugue in A Minor—J. S. Bach. This cheery music was just right for an opening concert of the convention and was well suited to the instrument at hand. She next played Irish Jig for the Feet by Mary Beth Bennett, a charmer of a piece—airy and graceful. Buchholz and Luedecke then added some pieces by Melchior Franck and Hermann Schein, using both organs to show off stops we had not heard—kromhoorns and the like. Luedecke ended with the Doppel Fugue über ‘Heil dir im Siegeskranz’ (God Save the King) by John Knowles Paine. She played it well—untangling both fugue subjects with ease.

Opening concert
The official opening concert was that evening at the Cleveland Masonic and Performance Arts Center, with a recital by Peter Richard Conte on the 4-manual, 41-rank Austin organ, Opus 823, from 1919. The building is an enormous weathered brick structure, and the large auditorium has steep stadium seating. Its former elegance is somewhat faded, but the acoustics are good and the room is still used for recordings by the Cleveland Orchestra. To the left of the stage is a 4-manual Wurlitzer console awaiting its pipes; work is ongoing. The Austin console is in a somewhat cramped nest above and to the right of the stage; the pipes are in a chamber above the console. A large movie screen center stage projected a close-up of Conte’s hands. Technical difficulties with the camera or the projector provided more distraction than necessary, but it was still good fun to see those famous hands at work. This recital was both the closing concert of the ATOS convention and the opening concert of the OHS convention—it was a treat to share a common bond. There were a surprisingly large number of people present who belonged to neither organization.
The concert was vintage Conte. He began with his own transcription of Bernstein’s Overture to Candide, then an assured and strong reading of Guilmant’s Marche Religieuse, op. 15, no 2, and two transcriptions from Widor’s Bach’s Memento: Pastorale, in which we heard the beautiful Clarinet and Oboe stops, and Mattheus-Final. Conte then played his own transcription of Fritz Kreisler’s Variations on a Theme of Arcangelo Corelli. His right hand bounced effortlessly between Swell and Choir without missing a beat—when you are used to the six-manual Wanamaker console, a four-manual instrument must be mere child’s play.
Robert Elmore’s Fantasy on Nursery Tunes followed, a charming piece, great for introducing the organ to children—if they still know the old nursery tunes! Conte brought the program to a close with the Final by Franck. Throughout the evening he spoke to his large audience with humor and grace. It was a brilliant and virtuoso performance.

Monday, 6 July 2009
After a pleasant drive out in the green countryside on a sunny, cloudless morning, we arrived at St. Martin of Tours Roman Catholic Church in Valley City, Ohio, to hear Andrew Scanlon demonstrate the tonally intact 1881 Odenbrett & Abler organ, built in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The 2-manual, 19-stop organ stands in the rear balcony of the church, which dates from 1861, and is now used as a chapel for a larger structure next door, built in 2002. A handsome organ, with polished tin façade and butternut case, it is believed to be the last extant instrument by this builder. Paul Marchesano announced that this organ will receive an OHS Historic Citation.
Andrew Scanlon, recently appointed to East Carolina University and to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Greenville, South Carolina, opened with Marche Romaine by Gounod. He played it with fine breadth, giving a good demonstration of the warm chorus sounds of each manual. Next were two pieces by Langlais: Prière from 24 Preludes, in which we heard a clear and lovely Oboe; and Elévation, from Suite médiévale, which features the tune Adoro te devote. Everyone loved this organ!
Mendelssohn’s Prelude in C Minor followed. It was registered boldly, creating a good contrast to the Langlais. Scanlon played it with great vigor using this fine organ’s resources nicely. He then played Folk Tune, from Percy Whitlock’s Five Short Pieces. I loved the solo Open Diapason 8′ with its warm, room-filling sound in the tenor register.
The hymn was “Christ the Lord is risen again” (Orientis partibus); the French Medieval tune was most appropriate for this church. Next was Everett Titcomb’s Regina Coeli, in which we heard a goodly variety of this fine organ’s stops. Scanlon closed with Bach’s Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552 (St. Anne). Every line was clearly delineated in this great piece on an organ with no mixtures. We heard refined voicing and first-rate playing!
We then proceeded to Berea and St. Adalbert’s Roman Catholic Church, the oldest Polish church in Ohio, and its 1904 organ by Cleveland organbuilder Votteler-Hettche (2 manuals, 9 stops). The performers were Dennis Northway and his student and former Biggs Fellow Adam Gruber. The parish priest reported that the organ cost $6,000, and was just restored for $25,000! Attractive white and gold altars with statues stood beneath a half dome in the apse, which featured a painting of the ascending Christ. Pink marble lined the sanctuary.
Northway began with Pachelbel’s Ciacona in D Minor, making each voice of this lovely organ shine in the 16 variations; the flutes were especially nice. Sixteen-year-old Adam Gruber gave us some Rheinberger: Three Trios, op. 49. During the hymn, “Come, Labor On,” Ora Labora, teacher and student shared the bench, playing with four hands—this added “upperwork” to the sound. Northway inserted a piece not in the program, In a Quiet Mood, a gentle reflection by Arkansas composer Florence Price. Gruber ended with the Toccata in D Minor by Gordon Balch Nevin.

We then went to the grand old Masonic Temple in Lakewood for a hearty lunch in its basement. We worked off our lunch by climbing several flights of stairs to the grand old lodge room, where we heard a concert by OHS favorite William Aylesworth, playing the 2-manual, 13-stop Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ, Opus 1287, from 1916; it stands in a balcony opposite the stage in this elegant room, which is decorated in an Egyptian motif all around.
Aylesworth began, appropriately enough, with Masonic March by Theo Bonheur (Charles A. Rawlings, 1857–ca. 1930), which bounced along in good fashion. Next were Frederick Archer’s (1838–1901) Prelude, which demonstrated the lovely strings, and Motivo, a quiet little piece, followed by Summer Fancies, op. 38, no. 2, by Rossetter G. Cole (1866–1952).
Next was Choral Hymn by William Spark (1823–1897), in which the warm-throated Great Diapason alternated with the Swell Vox Humana. Guilmant’s Mélodie, op. 46, no. 4, followed. The last piece was Under the Double Eagle by Josef Franz Wagner (1856–1908). Bill got us all clapping in unison to the irresistible pulse of this music. This was another fine demonstration of a historic organ by a player with a keen insight into instruments from this period, and who always chooses literature appropriate to the instrument and the culture of its time.
I daresay that the next venue was a big reason many of us came to this particular convention: the opportunity to hear the famous 1957 4-manual, 44-stop Beckerath organ in Cleveland’s Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church in an all-Bach recital by Joan Lippincott. When we pulled up to the church, it seemed somehow strange that such a fine and famous organ could be standing in a church that had clearly fallen on hard times. The 1874 structure was in a rather ordinary neighborhood. Its interior was in sad shape, with peeling paint and water stains, but up in the balcony, sure enough, was the Beckerath—its case painted in various shades of blue with gold trim. The church’s warm and positive young minister has brought the parish back from the brink of closing. The organ is being restored, and has brought in many new members, who come from other parts of the city to hear it played and to enjoy his fine preaching. The significance of this organ cannot be overstated. Our Atlas had this to say about it and other European tracker organs imported in the late 1950s: “ . . . these instruments provided fuel for the first chapter of America’s own tracker revival, for player and builder alike.”
We began with the hymn Nun Danket, and sang a verse in German and then repeated the first verse in English, singing in parts. Two selections from the Leipzig Chorales followed. In Nun Danket alle Gott, BWV 657, Lippincott used the powerful Cornet from the Rückpositiv. In Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654, she used that Great 8′ Principal to accompany the Cornet on the Kronpositiv. Next came the Prelude and Fugue in C Major (9/8), BWV 547. Pure exultant joy permeated every note. The phenomenal fugue has four voices on the manuals, saving the pedal for the end, when it presents the subject in augmentation. The full organ sound is magnificent: grand and yet transparent.
Lippincott then played the E-flat Trio Sonata, BWV 525. The third movement was taken perhaps a bit too fast, and got a little shaky, but she brought it along nicely. She ended with a first-rate performance of the Passacaglia and Fugue in C minor, BWV 582. Lippincott clearly has great affection for each piece and for this wonderful organ.
Late in the afternoon, we returned downtown to our hotel for a lecture given by John Ferguson on “The Life of Walter Holtkamp, Sr.” It was a fascinating walk through the career of this pivotal figure in American organ building. Professor Ferguson pointed out Mr. Holtkamp’s desire to learn from but not copy the old masters. His organs were on low wind pressure, and he used slider chests, but they were not encased; the pipes were displayed. Those visual designs were stunning to mid-20th-century Americans, and he would build the first mid-20th-century American trackers. Holtkamp was a strong-willed man, but was a colleague to his fellow organ builders, and went on to form APOBA in 1941.
After another superb dinner at the Marriott (the chef was amazing!), I walked the few blocks to St. John the Evangelist Catholic Cathedral for the evening concert by Ken Cowan, playing the Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ from 1948. There are actually two organs: one in the gallery, and one in the chancel, with two duplicate 3-manual stopkey consoles, each controlling both organs. The gallery organ has its Great division mounted on the railing in a kind of case with pipework unenclosed. The Swell and Choir divisions are enclosed in chambers on either side of the rear window, with the Pedal spread out between the manual divisions. The chancel organ is behind a gorgeous, hand-carved wooden screen that stands behind the altar. With a generous amount of reverberation, beautiful and even voicing, this is a very nice organ. Cowan was joined by trumpeter Jack Sutte of the Cleveland Orchestra. (On a personal note, I would learn that evening that Mr. Sutte’s father, the late John Sutte, was a classmate of mine at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin. Meeting this brilliant young trumpeter was very moving for me.) The fading evening sun faintly lit the stained glass windows from Munich as we eagerly awaited the concert.
Cowan opened with Mendelssohn’s Overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, transcribed by Samuel P. Warren. The sounds were marvelous in the splendid acoustics of the cathedral. Cowan is a master colorist, registering his pieces with uncommon sensitivity. Elegant use of the Swell and Choir shades are Cowan trademarks. His second piece, Stimmen der Nacht, op. 142, no. 1, by Sigfrid Karg-Elert, demonstrated the beautiful strings and the Vox Humana. A warm and wonderful piece, it grew to a full sound, then pulled back to a bubbling flute on the Choir and the Vox Humana—beautiful sounds.
After a brief crash of the solid-state combination system, they managed to repair it and were able to move on to what I found to be the most interesting piece of the evening, Okna Fenster: Windows, after Marc Chagall, a four-movement work by Petr Eben for organ and trumpet. I. Blue Window dashed all over the place leaving splashes of color in every corner of the cathedral. II. Green Window was more serene, with muted trumpet and Messiaen-like sounds. The serenity gave way to darker images and louder organ tone with a growling 16′ pedal reed. A more playful section followed, and we returned to sounds heard at the beginning. III. Red Window began ff in the organ. The Swell closed a bit as the trumpet joined. The music was reminiscent of “Night on Bald Mountain.” Things calmed down a bit, but that darker imagery was never far away, and it returned. IV. Gold Window began with the theme (a Russian Orthodox chant many of us knew from the Episcopal Hymnal 1982 in a setting of “The Beatitudes”) played on the foundation stops. There was dialogue material between trumpet and organ, ending with a toccata-like section. Fantastic music!
After intermission, Cowan began the second half with Reger’s Introduction and Passacaglia in F Minor, op. 63. It rolled through the gothic arches of this splendid building. He played it masterfully, using the expression pedals to create wonders of shading. For the first time that evening, we heard the full magnificence of this organ. He next played Elegy by George Thalben-Ball. They inserted a piece by Tomassi entitled Holy Week at Cusco. Sutte joined Cowan, alternating between piccolo trumpet and regular trumpet, which was muted at times. We then sang that glorious hymn “I Vow to Thee My Country,” whose tune comes from Holst’s The Planets—Jupiter. It made every Anglophile’s spine tingle!
Ken Cowan closed the program with Variations on ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ by Dudley Buck. It was played at the request of convention chairperson Joseph McCabe, and was just the right dessert following the dense music that preceded it. We all sang along on the last variation. Cowan played with total abandon and clarity—he makes everything he plays sound so easy. Thus ended the first full day.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Our first stop on Monday took us to Cleveland’s Pilgrim Congregational Church UCC, a massive Richardsonian Romanesque structure, to hear their 3-manual, 36-stop Farrand & Votey organ, Opus 719, from 1894. The organ was rebuilt several times; in 1992 it was restored by the Holtkamp Organ Company. (Our Atlas told us that Walter Holtkamp, Sr. attended this church as a boy.) It stands proudly right up front in this Akron-plan building. The pipes are handsomely stenciled, and the case is crowned with a wooden statue of an angel blowing a trumpet.

The concert was given by Stephen Schnurr, his student Micah Raebel, whom we heard at the 2007 convention in Indiana, and young tenor Nathan Leath. We began with the hymn “All hail the pow’r of Jesus’ Name” (Coronation), using both piano (Raebel) and organ (Schnurr). They then launched into a surprisingly effective piano-organ arrangement of Franck’s Prelude, Fugue and Variation, op. 18. Next, Schnurr played a lovely Berceuse (1911) by James H. Rogers (1857–1940). We heard many attractive sounds of this beautiful organ, especially the strings, flutes, and the Concert Flute. The next piece was also by Rogers, Theme and Variations, ‘Second Suite’ (1915), which showed off the fine Doppel Floete and Oboe.
Two more pieces by Rogers followed: Two Offertory Songs: 1. Today if ye will hear his voice, and 2. Out of the Depths. Leath sang and Raebel accompanied him on the organ. Both young men did very well with this literature, which was well-suited to this grand old building and organ. Micah Raebel then ended the concert with a dashing performance of the splendid Toccata (from Dix Pièces) by Eugène Gigout. I give Steven Schnurr and Dennis Northway much credit for sharing the spotlight of a national convention recital with their students.

Our second stop of the day took us to a sad yet proud place: the beautiful St. Procop’s (short for Procopius) Catholic Church in Cleveland, founded as a Czech parish in the late 19th century. I admired the beautiful marble altars and statuary, the windows, and wall decoration. I found myself seated next to a very old man, well into his late 80s. I asked him if he was a member of this church, and he said that he was, but added, “it’s a dirty shame, though. The bishop is going to close it on October 30. He is closing 50 churches in the diocese.” His voice was bitter and sad. He told me that he and his wife were married there many years ago. A nun who was in charge of the parish proudly touted the fact that she had brought the parish into the black—all bills were paid; but it was still closing on October 30. We presented her with an album of photographs our superb OHS photographers had taken of this beautiful church. She was deeply touched.
The organ was in the rear balcony: a 2-manual, 22-stop, 1913 instrument by Votteler-Hettche, originally tubular-pneumatic, now changed to electric action. The organ had not been heard in many years, but was made playable for this concert by several OHS volunteers. Many members of the parish had joined us, eager to hear the organ once again.
The recitalist was Randy Bourne, who began with Wagner’s Friedensmarsch from Rienzi. With the first sound emanating from the organ, the dear old man next to me jumped slightly; he then leaned forward. After a moment, I noted a tear fall from his eyes to the floor. It broke my heart. Such is the power a pipe organ and its history in the building in which it stands has over our hearts and emotions. The piece was a grand gesture to this gracious old building and the people who worshiped there.
Beethoven’s Minuet in G major, WoO 10, no. 6, was next, smartly played on a variety of 8-foot stops. A cipher, unfortunately, began on the Swell, and many hands attempted to repair it. Soon enough, it was just fine again, and we went on to the third piece, Mélodie in E-flat Major (Souvenir d’un lieu cher, op. 42, no. 3) by Tchaikovsky. (The Wagner, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky pieces were all played by Edwin Arthur Kraft at the dedication of this organ.) We all admired the sweet tones of an instrument whose fate is unknown after the church closes. We then sang the hymn “Sing praise to God, our highest good” (Mit Freuden Zart). It was very moving for all the St. Procop’s parishioners to hear the fine OHS singing. I suspect that there were few dry eyes all around. It was like being at a funeral.
Bourne ended with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in C Minor, op. 65, no. 2. It was well played and a good chance to hear the power of this fine organ. With heavy hearts, we left this sad and beautiful church wishing there was something we could do to help their circumstances.
Our buses took us to Holy Angels R.C. Church in Sandusky for a hymn sing accompanied by some of our members on the 9-stop, 2-manual Carl Barckhoff organ (1885) that had stood silently in the corner of the balcony for decades. The church got it working for us. It was a great moment! Let’s hope it continues to be used. Sandusky is an attractive town on the shore of Lake Erie, with countless churches. At one intersection, I saw three churches!

After lunch, we went to Sandusky’s First Congregational UCC to hear Christopher Marks demonstrate the fine 1875 Johnson & Son organ, Opus 462, 2 manuals, 26 ranks—an organ with a wild history of countless moves, finally finding its way to its present location in 1982 in a restoration with additions and replacement of two missing ranks by my friend James C. Taylor, of Kaukauna, Wisconsin. It stands in an alcove to the right of the altar area in an Akron-style Richardsonian Romanesque building with a beautiful stained glass window in the ceiling. Marks began with Spring Greeting (1896) by Nathan Hale Allen (1948–1925), a charming celebration of spring. Next was Night: A Meditation (1907) by Arthur Foote—lovely, evocative music, which he played with great sensitivity, using the organ’s sweet, soft sounds very well. After the hymn “Now, on land and sea descending” (Vesper Hymn), came a chorale prelude on that same tune by Samuel B. Whitney (1842–1914)—another charmer of a piece, followed by Horatio Parker’s Scherzino, op. 66, no. 3 (1910). Marks closed with a muscular reading of Dudley Buck’s Allegro vivace non troppo from Second Sonata, op. 77 (1877). This was a fine and entertaining program with Christopher Marks’s usual brilliant playing.
Our buses took us to Toledo and the elegant Toledo Museum of Art. We were to have heard a demonstration by Robert Barney of the 1785 Johannes Strumphler 1-manual cabinet organ. Alas, it was not to be, as we had gotten behind schedule. So we made our way into the large 1750-seat auditorium known as “The Peristyle” to hear the 4-manual Skinner organ from 1926 in a recital by Stephen Tharp. First, however, we were granted a fascinating lecture by Joseph Dzeda and Nicholas Thompson-Allen, two of America’s organ restoration experts. Dzeda told us that the organ had been dead—it took two years to restore it. It features an automatic player mechanism, and they told of a recently discovered collection of organ rolls. We heard one that was 80 years old by a Mr. Snow, a New York City organist, playing Saint-Saëns’ My Heart at Thy Sweet Voice. The effect was pure magic. It should be pointed out that the ushers and security staff had agreed to stay late so that we could hear Tharp’s recital on their treasured organ, a recital that was now two hours late—the only scheduling glitch of the week. We were all very grateful.
Stephen Tharp, looking quite snappy in his black and tan Captain Kirk-like attire, came out to the console, located center stage. He began with Mendelssohn’s Overture to St. Paul, which opened with the intoning of “Wachet auf” on the Tuba Mirabilis. This W. T. Best transcription makes one think that the piece was written for the organ, it’s that idiomatic. Tharp played it brilliantly.
Next came the Adagio from Widor’s Symphony VIII. Its mysterious and melancholic sonorities worked wonderfully on this organ’s strings and foundations. Tharp then played Elgar’s Larghetto, Serenade for Strings, op. 20, in a transcription by C. H. Trevor. Quiet strings accompanied a soft solo stop. He used the tremolo to great effect, turning it on and off as a singer would use vibrato, and used the shades very well, too. The last piece was the Fantasy and Fugue on ‘How Brightly Shines The Morning Star’, op. 40, no. 1, by Max Reger. It was marvelously played. Tharp managed to untangle all of Reger’s intense and driving lines and bring them into focus. On the way, we got to hear more of the very beautiful solo stops that Skinner left as his legacy. By the time he got to that amazing fugue, we were in awe once again of E. M. Skinner’s genius and the orchestral style of organ building. And we were, most assuredly, in awe of Stephen Tharp.
We then bused to Toledo’s great Cathedral of Our Lady, Queen of the Most Holy Rosary, easily the largest church building we would enter during the convention—it is absolutely spectacular. We were fed dinner in the cathedral parish hall, but many of us could not resist a peek into the massive church before we ate. It is truly one of America’s great cathedrals, with marble, elegantly carved wood, glorious frescoes, huge soaring stained glass windows, and a ceiling that towers over the grand baldacchino and altar. The Skinner organ, installed in 1931, has 4 manuals, 59 stops, and 75 ranks. The console is on the floor of the sanctuary, and the pipes are in a chamber above and to the left of the altar.
Stephen Schnurr presented the cathedral with an OHS Historic Organ Citation for its magnificent 1931 Skinner organ. Our Atlas told us that it is tonally and technologically intact, “with not only the pipework but all original console and relay mechanism intact.” Todd Wilson was our performer. He grew up in Toledo, and this instrument was a great source of inspiration to him. He began with Dupré’s Cortège et Litanie, op. 19, no. 2, as transcribed by Lynnwood Farnam, which made for a great program opener—a moving and powerful introduction to this organ.
Next came three English miniatures. The first was John Stanley’s Voluntary in F, which he played on the diapasons, then on the flutes as a quiet echo. A chirpy cornet-like sound danced about. The acoustic favored the music pleasantly. The next “miniature” was C. S. Lang’s wonderful Tuba Tune in D, one of my favorite Easter preludes. The huge scale of the solo reed was thrilling. The third English miniature was the beautiful Londonderry Air, as transcribed by Edwin H. Lemare. Wilson called forth gorgeous lush sounds from the organ and played it with great sensitivity. Near the end we heard the warm Vox Humana, the 32′ flue, and the celestes. He reduced the organ to a whisper and gave us one last pluck from the 32′. It was truly lovely.
Wilson ended the first half with Franck’s Choral No 1. in E—a marvelous choice for this organ and this room. The organ has all the right stops, and he used them in just the right way. His tempo was consistent throughout, which held everything together.
The second half began with Gerre Hancock’s Variations on ‘Ora Labora’. The tune was written by T. T. Noble upon the occasion of the founding of St. Thomas’ Choir School in New York. We then sang the hymn “Come, labor on.” The Hancock variations were quite good, showing lots of variety. Soprano Nancy Canfield joined Wilson in Les Angélus, op. 57, three songs by Louis Vierne evoking the three hours of prayer in a day: Au Matin, a gentle rocking piece; A Midi, noon, a bit heartier and more robust; and Au Soir, a quiet piece introduced by the ringing of a handbell three times. It ended very softly.
Wilson then performed Prelude on “Iam sol recedit” (1924) by Bruce Simonds (1895–1989), demonstrating the classic Skinner soft solo reeds on this extraordinary organ. He concluded with the well-known jaunty Allegro vivace from Widor’s Symphonie V, played masterfully. The organ fills this great marble and stone space with tones high and low, laughing reeds, and rumbling basses. Wilson plays with fantastic but controlled drive. The ending at fff was astonishing. Reluctantly, we left this great cathedral and boarded our buses for the drive back to Cleveland.

Wednesday, 8 July 2009
We began the day with a lecture at the hotel by Sebastian M. Glück on “The Grand Romantic Organs of Jewish Synagogues,” a fascinating lecture on a little-known subject. I’ve long admired Glück’s fine writing, and his lecture did not disappoint. We saw many historical photographs of temple organs, and learned how they went in and out of fashion.
Our first stop of the day was at Plymouth Church UCC in Shaker Heights, a prosperous and leafy suburb of Cleveland. The church itself has a 3-manual Holtkamp, but we were to hear the organ in their chapel: an 1844 George Stevens organ that has bounced all over the country from Boston to the west coast and back east to Plymouth Church. Many things have changed on the organ in its various moves, but it remains a nice instrument with two manuals, 27 stops, and 22 ranks. It was first heard by the OHS convention in San Francisco in 1988. The organ stands in a rear balcony. It has an ivory-colored case, with robin’s egg blue façade pipes and gold pipe shades.
We were pleased to have Bruce Stevens demonstrate this organ for us. He began what was to be another of his stellar OHS recitals with Pachelbel’s Partita on ‘Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan’, a great choice for an organ demonstration. We sat in chairs already turned round facing the organ in the rear gallery. The room is in a New England meetinghouse style, with clear glass windows that brought in abundant morning sunshine. The wood floor and rounded ceiling gave much resonance to the room as we sang the hymn “What e’er my God ordains is right” (Was Gott tut).
Stevens then played O Clemens! O pia! from Five Invocations by Henri Dallier (1849–1934), in which we heard the Swell Dulciana with tremulant accompanying a Great flute playing in the tenor register. He ended with the ever-popular Dubois Toccata from Twelve Pieces, in which we heard the Great Trumpet used as a chorus reed. Stevens played very well, giving us much to enjoy. His usual refinement, shaping of phrase, and delicacy of articulation were all on display. This very old organ is robust yet gentle, and it was a great start to the day!

Next was another fine Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ, Opus 1602, from 1938, in St. James Anglican-Catholic Church. The rector greeted us in cassock and surplice, carrying his beretta. The church is a small gem, with many pretty things. The organ is in the back on the main floor, with a sort of fence dividing its place from the nave. The organ is really the work of Walter Holtkamp, and was a great chance for him to work out his own ideas on organ building. The Positiv division is mounted on the wall, unenclosed. The organ has 3 manuals, 20 stops, and 25 ranks.
The program, played by John Ferguson, was to be a hymn-sing with chorale preludes. It was abbreviated, however, causing some confusion. He opened with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in C, BWV 545, which was nicely played. Next was Herbert Howells’ Psalm Prelude, Set I, No. 2. It worked well, but seemed to want a celeste. Then came three settings of Es ist ein Ros’, by Praetorius, Dennis Lovinfosse, and Brahms, after which we sang the hymn “Earth and all stars.” Ferguson’s clever introduction and verses assigned to voice types, plus a rather cheeky verse for the organ on verse four that included references to “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” made for much fun. I was happy to surrender that verse to the organ because I can’t sing about “loud boiling test tubes” with a straight face. The hymn “Now thank we all our God” ended the program. He improvised a fitting postlude on Nun danket.
After lunch at the hotel, we had the annual meeting, and then walked across the large civic mall to the Cleveland Public Auditorium, a vast structure. Built in the Italian Renaissance-style and spanning two city blocks, it was completed in 1922. We found ourselves on a great stage somewhat awed by the place, curtains drawn on both sides of us. All 500 OHSers were completely silent as we stood there looking up into the wings, on one side, at the massive E. M. Skinner organ with its 5-manual console. The pipes were on the second story of the wings, and, we were told, went back some 45 feet. We had all seen the photos of what was to come next once the curtains would part, and the anticipation was building. Finally the curtains on our left opened revealing a large, 2,700-seat theatre—red and gold done up in Spanish motifs. And then the curtains on our right parted, and we saw the vast interior of the convention hall, which seats 15,500. At 300′ long, 215′ wide and 80′ high, with no supporting columns, it is quite a sight. And there we stood on this stage made to serve both venues, beneath this enormous Skinner organ. The location, in the wings, was not great for the projection of the organ’s sound, but the architects would not have it any other way. So, we were told, the organ did its best work in radio broadcasts. It has now fallen into disuse and only a few sounds could be heard that day.
Convention chair Joe McCabe gave a good talk on the building and the organ. Young Jonathan Ortloff played the parts of the organ that worked and then crawled around in the chamber making some of the large pipes speak. He was like a monkey swinging fearlessly from tree to tree. It was left to our imaginations to wonder at the instrument’s potential. In fact, the fate of the organ and its building is uncertain—what a pity. It is truly a stupendous place. You can view a video of the organ at <www.organsociety.org/2009/welcome.html&gt;.
Our next visit was to the great Shrine Church of St. Stanislaus in Cleveland. It is a large building, beautifully decorated in 19th-century style, with statues and elegant carvings everywhere. It was built to serve the Polish immigrants who flocked to the city at the end of the 1800s. The good-sized 2-manual, 39-stop, 33-rank William Schuelke organ was built in Milwaukee ca. 1909; it got rather beat up in a tornado that toppled the church’s enormous 232-foot steeples. The organ was rebuilt by Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling as Opus 1579 in 1933. Work was done in 1988 that left the organ unplayable. James P. Leek Organ Company of Oberlin, Ohio releathered it, and installed solid-state switching. It stands today in the rear gallery.
Our recitalist was Rhonda Sider Edgington, making her fourth OHS convention appearance. She began with two of Schumann’s Four Sketches for Pedal Piano, op. 58, numbers 1 and 4, which gave a good hearing of the foundation stops. Next came two selections from Karg-Elert’s Choral Improvisations, op. 65: Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir and O daß ich tausend Zungen hätte, which showed off several of the beautiful solo stops on this fine organ and the generous acoustic of the church. I especially liked the Doppel Flute—but then I always like Doppel Flutes! Cantilène (1900) by David Fleuret (1869–1915) followed—very nice music, which floated blithely through the church, gently moving along without a care in the world. Next came Mendelssohn’s Fugue in E Minor, played with snap and polish.

The evening recital was at Cleveland’s First United Methodist Church, which was founded in 1839. The present 1300-seat building, of Indiana limestone, was completed in March 1905. The exterior is English Gothic, with a huge lantern tower over the crossing. The interior, however, is a delightful surprise. It appears Byzantine in color and design, with elaborate stenciling. The vast space under the lantern tower floats over the altar area behind which the organ rises. The Geo. H. Ryder organ, built for an earlier church, was brought to the new location by the Votteler-Hettche Organ Co. of Cleveland. W. B. McAllister Co. of Cleveland created the truly remarkable golden organ screen, which wraps around the back of the chancel, measuring 40′ by 60′. The pipe flats are separated by four life-sized reproductions of Fra Angelico’s angels from his Linaiuoli Triptych. The present organ uses that case. It is a Casavant, built in 1943, with numerous subsequent additions; a 4-manual console from 1998 by the Kegg Pipe Organ Company features terraced jambs and is movable.
Our recitalist for the evening was Nathan Laube, who, we learned from Michael Barone, was celebrating his 21st birthday that night; we sang “Happy Birthday” to him! He had just graduated from Curtis. He began his recital with a joyous and almost giddy performance of his own transcription of the Overture to Die Fledermaus by Johann Strauss, Jr. His sense of color, touch, contrast, tempo, and dynamics is of the highest order. Next, he played Karg-Elert’s Symphonischer Choral: ‘Jesu, meine Freude’, op. 87, no. 2. In the first movement, Introduzione (Inferno), the full-length 32′ Contra Bombarde was most effective. The second movement, Canzone, had a beautiful solo from the Oboe; the strings are especially lovely. The final movement, Fuga con choral, woke the instrument from its peaceful slumber. The first half ended with the singing of the hymn Jesu, meine Freude.
The second half began with movement four (Variations on ‘Puer Nobis’) from Widor’s Symphonie Gothique, op. 70. We heard a blizzard of notes in the manuals, with the full pedal thundering forth the mighty tune. Laube ended with the 94th Psalm by Reubke. Now it should be said that this entire recital was played from memory. He had some difficulty with the combination action and had to stop to reset some things, but he managed to get back on track completely unruffled. For an encore, he played Andante sostenuto from Widor’s Symphonie Gothique, op. 70.

Thursday, 9 July 2009
The day began with a panel discussion and virtual organ crawl through the Cleveland Public Auditorium organ, built by Ernest M. Skinner. Our panelists and presenters were Joseph Dzeda and Nicholas Thompson-Allen. It was a fascinating talk, with photos showing the building in its various uses over the years, as well as the virtual organ tour. They touched on preservation of the organ, concern for its relocation, and, as the Atlas said, “practical issues surrounding instruments in public venues.”
Our first recital of the morning took place at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, built in 1917, in Elyria. A stone church on a leafy corner with a well-proportioned steeple, it has a 3-manual, 32-stop Skinner organ, Opus 398 (1923), in a chamber to the right of the altar. Anne Wilson began with the hymn “Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee” (Ode to Joy). Her introduction used elements from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony—nicely done. Then, a Sortie by Lefébure-Wély (1817–1869), written at a time when French organ music for the church resembled that of the music hall or even a circus. This was no exception—great fun with plenty of reeds and foundations making splendid oom-pahs. Next was Brahms’s setting of Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, using the 4′ flute. Wilson then played The Musical Snuffbox by Anatol Liadov (1885–1914), which demonstrated the Celesta (Harp). Next Vierne’s Impromptu, from Pièces de Fantaisie, op. 54, no. 2, which she tossed off with great ease—I liked her use of the Clarabella and the fine Vox Humana. Wilson continued with Lemare’s Irish Air from County Derry, which featured the strings and harp. She ended with a cracking good performance of Rossini’s Overture to William Tell. Great fun, and a fine demonstration recital.
The next stop in Elyria was kitty-corner from St. Andrew’s: St. Mary Catholic Church, an 1886 red brick building with a charming Victorian Gothic portico. Stepping inside, however, revealed a church stripped of all decoration; it was as if it had been sacked. But it still had its 1865 William A. Johnson organ, rebuilt and enlarged by Philipp Wirsching ca. 1900, and later by Homer Blanchard. In 1987 James Leek gave the organ a new Trumpet, replacing one that had disappeared. Originally one manual and pedal, the organ now has two manuals, pedal, and 12 stops.
Yun Kyong Kim, making her second OHS appearance, began with Prélude (from Trois Pièces, op. 29, no. 1) by Gabriel Pierné. The hymn came from The Hymnal 1940 (Episcopal): “I heard the voice of Jesus say” (Vox dilecti)—a fine choice for this place and organ; I liked the Great Trumpet. Next, she played a partita on Ach wie nichtig, ach wie flüchtig by Georg Böhm that gave a fine survey of the stops. The last variation used the Principal chorus and the Trumpet to good effect. Her next piece was Dudley Buck’s Home, Sweet Home, op. 30 (1868), dedicated to “his friend W. H. Johnson,” the original builder of this organ—great choice! One of the things I admire so much about OHS recitals is the pleasure we take in music of this sort played straightforwardly—no winking. The dignity of the instruments and composers is preserved, and we are transported back in time, to another aesthetic—like hearing Bach on a Silbermann. Yun Kyong Kim ended her program with Etude in D Minor from Four Concert Etudes, op. 51, no. 4 (1904) by George Elbridge Whiting. This was a brilliant performance, with wonderful and varied colors from this 12-stop organ.
After a box lunch, buses took us to Wellington to hear the 1916 2-manual, 13-stop J. W. Steere organ, Opus 417, in the First Congregational Church UCC—OHS charter member Randall Wagner’s home church. The organ sits in a niche to the right of the altar in this octagonal Gothic structure. The interior is crowned with a lantern tower at the peak—a Tiffany-like dome. The manuals and stop action are mechanical, while the pedal is tubular-pneumatic.
Recitalist Grant Edwards began with John Stanley’s Voluntary in G Major, op. 7, no. 9, which worked quite well on this organ. I liked the Oboe, the only reed on the organ, which functioned well as a solo voice and a chorus reed. We heard it as a solo in the next piece, Denis Bédard’s Récit (Suite du premier ton). The slow movement from Mendelssohn’s Third Sonata was next. John and James Leek had restored the hand-pumping mechanism in 1983, and the present organist at the church hand-pumped the organ for this piece. Edwards played a Fughetta on “Austria,” after which we sang that tune to the hymn “God whose giving knows no ending,” then, Brahms’s Schmücke dich, O liebe Seele on a very beautiful flute. Arthur Foote’s Canzonetta, op. 71, no. 4 was next—a captivating piece. The last work was Noël Goemanne’s Partita on “Simple Gifts”—fine playing, and an all-around good demonstration of a beautiful organ.
This beautiful, sunny afternoon, we went to the attractive city of Oberlin, its downtown festooned with large hanging baskets of flowers—right to a church on the green at Oberlin College: the First Church in Oberlin UCC, established in 1834. The red brick building would look right at home in New England. The interior is like a New England meetinghouse, with horseshoe balcony and clear glass rectangular windows. The choir area and organ rise above the altar and pulpit. The organ reposes today in a neo-classical case retained from an Estey organ built for the church in 1908. A Skinner organ from Second Congregational Church replaced the Estey when the two churches merged in the 1920s. The Gober organ company from Elora, Ontario, and now of Oberlin, built the present organ, retaining the white Estey case and seven ranks from the Skinner. It is a large 2-manual and pedal organ of 40 stops and 47 ranks, mechanical key action and electric stop action, with solid-state combination action. Halbert Gober is curator of organs (and there are a lot of them!) at Oberlin College.
The performer was Jack Mitchener, appointed in 2008 as associate professor of organ at Oberlin. Dr. Mitchener opened with Frank Bridge’s marvelous Three Pieces, the Adagio of which has become quite a favorite. We admired the solo flutes and the Clarinet. The fascinating fugue subject is soft at first, but builds to a rolling boil complete with 32′ Contrabourdon; he brought it down gently at the end. The third movement, Allegro con spirito, was indeed fast and spirited, and the playing was well paced and articulated. The organ has a few rough edges, but the overall sound is rich in tone and powerful. Since it is right on campus, it is used regularly as a teaching and practice instrument. Saint-Saëns’ Fantaisie in D-flat Major, op. 101 came next, and was played very well. Spring Song by Harry Rowe Shelley (1858–1947) was an engaging romp—a bonbon. The hymn was “All my hope on God is founded,” with its awe-inspiring tune Michael by Herbert Howells. Mitchener’s final work was Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, op 65. His playing possesses great power and solidity. This was a very impressive performance in every way.
The convention group was divided in half, with some taking a self-guided tour of the Julas Organ Center, featuring Oberlin’s 14 practice organs by builders including Holtkamp, Noack, and Flentrop, then attending another fine recital by Dr. Mitchener in the beautiful Fairchild Chapel designed by New York architect Cass Gilbert (Woolworth Building, George Washington Bridge) and completed in 1931. Seating just 200, it was a perfect place to hear the beautiful 2-manual and pedal organ by John Brombaugh (Opus 25), from 1981, one of the earliest examples of a modern instrument tuned in quarter-comma meantone. This gothic chapel also contains a small 1957 Flentrop (one manual with pedal pulldowns). Mitchener played a varied program—Bach: Komm, Gott, Schöpfer, heiliger Geist, BWV 667; Andrea Antico: Chi non crede; Giovanni Paolo Cima: Canzon quarta, La Pace; William Byrd: The Carmans Whistle; and Buxtehude: Praeludium in C Major, BuxWV 137. All of this sounded marvelous on this unique instrument—a revelation.
After dinner under a white tent in a park, we headed to Oberlin’s Finney Chapel, a sort of Spanish Romanesque structure, for the evening recital by Diane Meredith Belcher on the C. B. Fisk organ, Opus 116, from 2001. The 3-manual organ has 57 registers, built in the French Romantic style, taking its inspiration from the instruments of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll. The Pedal has three 32′ stops. The tone is robust and colorful. It sits in a dark walnut-colored case on a balcony above the back of the stage.
Belcher began with Three Preludes and Fugues, op. 37 by Mendelssohn. In the C-minor, she attacked the music with a confident stride. I found the room to be resonant, but not reverberant—a pity. All that money spent on this classy organ, and the room is relatively dead. The G-major began with what I assumed to be the Flûte harmonique, which sang out into the room with a rich, noble sound. The fugue grew out of 8′ 4′ 2′ principal sounds, which sparkled well and were nicely colored with the addition of a reed. The D-minor used mixtures for the first time. We also heard 16′ manual tone and the 32′ Bourdon in the Pedal. Quieter sounds on the Récit grew to a ff as the piece wound itself around. Her performance was fantastic. The full power of the pedal came out in the fugue.
Next came another visit to Lefébure-Wély land, with his Élévation ou communion en la mineur, followed by Pifferari (a piffaro is a type of Italian bagpipe). Belcher used the Fisk organ’s Effet d’Orage stop, which creates the sound of thunder by sounding about seven pedal keys at once, as a drone went on the left hand while the right hand had dialogue between trumpets and flutes. Quite a piece! Then, Guilmant’s Prière en fa majeur, op. 16, no. 2, which was a nice airing of the Vox Humana. The first half ended with Gigout’s Pièce jubilaire, which begins quietly and builds to full organ. The full organ was thrilling. After the intermission, Michael Barone, a graduate of Oberlin, read a list of his classmates there in the late 1960s. It read like a who’s who of renowned American organists, teachers, and, of course, one very famous radio personality!
The second half of the program comprised a single work: Maurice Duruflé’s Suite, op. 5. The expression “hair-raising” cannot be overused here. The Prelude was full of thunder in the bass, with the flash of manual reeds and mixtures. The Sicilienne featured a solo on the Récit’s Basson-hautbois, followed by the beautiful strings accompanying the Flûte Harmonique—things of loveliness. The Toccata was played with an incredible fury. Pure joy and elation radiated forth from Belcher and this fantastic instrument.

Friday, 10 July 2009
Our first concert of the day was at Temple Tifereth Israel, a most impressive landmark on University Circle. The architecture was described in our atlas as “Romanesque and Byzantine.” Dedicated in 1924, it features a vast dome rising 85 feet over the sanctuary, which seats 1,227 on the main floor and another 659 in the mezzanine. The original organ was a Kimball with four manuals and a horseshoe console. The console was rebuilt by Ruhland Organs of Cleveland in 1967, and is now a Holtkamp-style 3-manual with stop keys. They retained much of the Kimball pipework, including diaphones and tibias. The organ is in the front of the building in chambers to the left and right of the choir gallery.
Justin Hartz played a wonderful recital of period pieces on this unusual instrument. He began with A Song of the Sea by English composer H. Alexander Matthews (1879–1973), which featured the Diaphone. Next was Caressing Butterfly by Richard Barthélemy (1869–1937) in a transcription by Firmin Swinnen. This was a tour of the grand old organ’s solo stops—there were many enchanting Kimball sounds.
Then we heard three pieces in theatre organ style: Forgotten Melody by Gus Kahn and Jesse Crawford, arranged by Rosa Rio who just turned 107; Hartz’s transcription of The Whistler and His Dog by Arthur Pryor; and Trees by Otto Rasbach, based on the poem by Joyce Kilmer. The hymn was “May He who kept us” by James H. Rogers. Hartz ended his concert with a good reading of Franck’s Pièce héroïque.

We then drove to the tony and very beautiful neighborhood of Cleveland Heights for a recital at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, a large English Gothic structure of Indiana limestone. The 1951 building was designed by J. Beyers Hays of Walker & Weeks, Cleveland. Our Atlas states that the same firm also designed the Public Auditorium in 1922 and Severance Hall in 1930. Karel Paukert is the organist at St. Paul’s and presides over three pipe organs, the most famous being the large organ by Walter Holtkamp built in 1952. It rises behind the altar screen, and has three manuals and pedal, with 44 stops. John Ferguson wrote in the atlas: “St. Paul’s Episcopal organ can be taken as a good example of the mature style of Walter Holtkamp. It was his favorite instrument. Many consider it to be his masterpiece.” But we’ll come to this organ later.
David Schrader began his program on the smallest of the three organs in this church: a one-manual portative organ from 2002 by Czech builder Vladimir Slajch. It stood in the side aisle to our right. Its bright red case with blue and gold trim really made a statement in this mostly white room. Schrader stood as he played some pieces from Frescobaldi’s Fiori Musicali (1635). In the Bergamasca, the gentle flute, Copula, filled the large room easily. He then made his way to the rear balcony, where a second organ awaited him: a 2-manual and pedal, 21-stop Hradetzky from 1986. The pipes are mounted on the railing, and the console is behind the case. The organ is in 17th-century Northern Italian style. It can be hand pumped, and has all manner of toys: drums, bells and whistles. The Toccata per l’Elevazione used the organ’s Voce umana. That was followed by the Ricercar cromatico dopo il credo. Then the fun began with the toy counter as he moved from Frescobaldi to Claude-Benigne Balbastre’s Variations on the Marseillaise and Ça Ira—it was a hoot from start to finish.
Schrader then moved to the Holtkamp behind the altar. The hymn we sang was not well chosen for our group or for the instrument: “God of our fathers, whose almighty hand” (National Hymn). We sing with great gusto, and with this hymn you need powerful solo reeds for the fanfares. The fanfares were written in our music, but he chose not to play them. So that was confusing right from the start. He also played it in a lower key, C major, I think. Then, between the third and fourth verses he played an extended interlude that seemed to wander through the circle of fifths for so long, as he modulated upward, that we were left uncertain as to when we should enter for the last verse. When he played a quasi-fanfare, half of us began to sing, and half waited for two measures. It was quite a rubble. The last piece was Trois Danses by Jehan Alain. I love this work and had been looking forward to it. The organ seemed well suited for it, but Schrader seemed to lose his way. The music lacked an inner pulse, which holds the musical line together.
We then went to the huge Church of the Covenant, another grand English Gothic building made of Indiana limestone. It features a large tower over the crossing containing a 47-bell carillon of Dutch bells. The first thing we did was gather in the church to sing the hymn “All Creatures of Our God and King” (Lasst uns erfreuen), with Jonathan Moyer playing the 5-manual Aeolian-Skinner rebuild of a Skinner organ. The pipes of this organ are placed all over the room, so the effect is rather overwhelming. He played it well and gave us a good demonstration of the instrument. We then ate a box lunch on the beautiful grounds as we listened to carillonneur John Gouwens, who played with fine shading and color music from many periods including an improvisation on a submitted theme.

We then walked over to the beautiful Cleveland Museum of Art. Unfortunately, the large Holtkamp organ was in storage due to renovations in the auditorium. But we did get to hear the Holtkamp Art Deco Portativ from 1935 in a recital by organist Gregory Crowell and soprano Kathryn Stieler. The organ’s case, designed by architect Richard Rychtarik, looks like something that stepped out of a 1930s Fred Astaire movie. The organ marked a return to tracker action in American organ building—a thing that would not be seen again until the 1960s. The recital was held in a reverberant gallery. Dr. Crowell began with Partite sopra La Romanesca by Michelangelo Rossi (1601–1656). Ms. Stieler began with Amarilli, mia bella by Caccini. Her even tone was rich and pure, filling the gallery with sound. Giovanni Legrenzi’s Che fiero costume was next, sung with great fire and freedom. Crowell’s accompaniment was superb.
Then we heard two movements from OHS member David Dahl’s An Italian Suite. Dahl’s writing is quite fine, and Crowell played this music very well, beginning with Pavana and ending with Gagliarda. Ms. Stieler returned for two more songs: the gracious Intorno all’idol mio by Antonio Cesti, followed by the well-known and joyous Già il sole dal Gange by Alessandro Scarlatti. It was an elegant program beautifully performed by two gifted musicians.
We returned to the Marriott to have dinner and get ready for the evening concert, the closing event of what had been a truly great convention. A record 530 registrants took part, even in the difficult economy we were having. The convention sold itself, with stunning photos on display at last summer’s convention in Seattle, in a gorgeous calendar we all received before Christmas, and, of course in the brilliant convention issue of The Tracker magazine, with more photos and tantalizing prose.
And now we found ourselves entering the grand and famous home of the Cleveland Orchestra: Severance Hall in the beautiful University Circle neighborhood. The classical exterior of the 1931 building includes organ pipes in the pediment above the main entry. The interior is pure Art Deco splendor. The big 4-manual Skinner organ from 1931, Opus 816, with 86 stops and 94 ranks, was originally in chambers 41 feet above the stage, speaking downward. Eventually it fell into disuse, and was walled up, thus preserving it. The hall was renovated in 2000, and the organ was moved to new chambers at the back of the stage. Jack M. Bethards was the consultant, and the Schantz organ company renovated the instrument, giving it modern solenoid drawknobs and a multi-level combination action. A façade of 43 non-speaking pipes graces the organ’s front. The console, painted a deep blue, with ivory and walnut colored Art Deco trim, was front and center on the stage.
The recitalist was Thomas Murray, university organist and professor of music at Yale University. He opened with Toccata in F Major, BWV 540, by J. S. Bach, slowly allowing the organ’s sound to grow and blossom. His flawless sense of rhythmic pulse and immaculate technique propelled every phrase. He made the most of those marvelous deceptive cadences. The powerful 32′ reeds came on at the end, leaving us breathless. We had all fallen in love with this organ, and the concert could have ended right there. But we were grateful that there would be more.
Next came Hindemith’s Sonata I (1937), written six years after this organ’s debut. Murray made the most out of this organ’s many fine solo voices. His approach was more orchestral, more dynamic than the usual. The Sehr langsam, for example, began with a plaintive cry from the Choir organ’s Contra Fagotto 16′ played one octave higher. Some of the softer foundation stops were heard, then the Orchestral Oboe—beautiful
E. M. Skinner sounds. Phantasie, frei featured good contrasting sounds. It ends, of course, with Ruhig bewegt, softly reminding us of the first movement. Murray’s pace and choice of color were perfect. The ppp ending on the Choir strings was deeply moving.
Regina Pacis from Guy Weitz’s (1883–1970) Symphony I on Gregorian Themes (1932), a good period piece for this organ, contained the Gregorian Ave Maria. I loved the soft 16′ pedal stops, Dulciana and Gamba, speaking with precision and presence. It grew to a loud dynamic. Instead of a sacred hymn, we sang a hymn to music: Schubert’s An die Musik, a practice they have at Yale graduations. It was a fine touch. For a brief moment we were all Yalies!
After intermission, Murray played Mouvement by Jean Berveiller (1904–1976). Only a few minutes in length, it packs a lot of music with a truly riotous pedal part. He concluded with Calvin Hampton’s transcription of Franck’s Symphony in D Minor. It sounded wonderful in this room, which has just enough reverberation to make the detached chords ring. Murray’s legendary console technique and registration skill were on full display. One also had the sense that this instrument clearly inspired him. The strings and soft reeds are to die for. The Oboe, English Horn, French Horn, and so forth are the stuff of genius. Thank God we still have this instrument’s voices intact as Skinner left them. This symphony, written for orchestra, makes a great organ piece; the transcription was excellent. Thomas Murray played it magnificently. His playing on this glorious and historic masterpiece of an organ—brought back from near extinction—is what the Organ Historical Society is all about. We were all deeply moved by that realization.
My hat is off to the planners of this convention. It ran like a clock. Endlessly fascinating instruments and venues kept us constantly entertained. The hotel was terrific, as was the food. The performers outdid themselves. The Atlas is a great document: kudos to Rollin Smith, Jonathan Ambrosino, Stephen Pinel, Stephen Schnurr, Scot Huntington, and Joseph McCabe for an outstanding job. The photography of William Van Pelt, Victor Hoyt, and Len Levasseur will provide inspiration for years to come. Next summer is Pittsburgh (information: <www.organsociety.org&gt;). I can’t wait! 

Photo credit: William T. Van Pelt, III