New Organs

Ann Labounsky

Ann Labounsky, Ph.D., is Professor and Chair of Organ and Sacred Music at the Mary Pappert School of Music, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Author of Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music, she studied with André Marchal and Jean Langlais in Paris from 1962–1964.

Jacqueline’s childhood memories of her parents’ home, 22 rue Duroc in Paris’s Seventh Arrondissement, included frequent encounters with famous leaders of the musical world. Her father André Marchal was already a highly regarded concert organist and teacher, and her mother, Suzanne Greuet-Marchal, was a singer of note who also taught at the Institut des Jeunes Aveugles. Their home became a center of hospitality and lively conversation, reminiscent of the famous Paris salons, where artists and musicians, young and old, gathered to discuss their passionate views while enjoying aperitifs. Among the frequent guests in this salon were famous French and international musicians and artists: organist/composers Louis Vierne, Jean Langlais, Jehan and Marie-Claire Alain, and Maurice Duruflé; musicologist Norbert Dufourcq, founder of Les Amis de l’Orgue; and the English critic Felix Aprahamian. She remembered that it was Louis Vierne who was like a grandfather to her, who taught her to tie her shoes! Jean Langlais, who lived only two doors away on the same street, likewise was a special friend. At one Christmas, she proudly showed Langlais the crèche given to her by her grandparents by guiding his hands over the scene. Inspired, Langlais composed his famous La Nativité from Poèmes Evangéliques. For Jacqueline, rue Duroc was affectionately called “organists’ row.”

Early on and throughout her life, Jacqueline also became involved in helping the blind students at the Institut nearby the “organists’ row” on Boulevard des Invalides and the graduates of the school at the Association Valentin Haüy at 5 rue Duroc. It was a great source of pride to her when the main hall at the Institut was renamed Salle André Marchal after her father.

From 1930, beginning with Lee Irwin, American students came to Paris to study with André Marchal in his home. Many of them were Fulbright Grant recipients who were required to state on their applications which school they wished to attend. Marchal was soon declared to be a school, and for many years that followed, it was Jacqueline who welcomed them, found housing and places for them to practice, and translated for them at lessons.

Her love for America and Americans began early and remained an important part of her life to the end. As a teenager, she learned to speak English by living for a time with an English family in England. In 1938, at age sixteen, Jacqueline accompanied her father on his second American recital tour, handling all the details of taking care of him, translating for him, and managing his travel schedule. She received her baccalaureate degree in 1940 from the Lycée Victor-Duruy on Boulevard des Invalides. English was her forte. Subsequently, in 1944, she earned an undergraduate degree from the Sorbonne in English literature called “License d’anglais.” Later, she worked in Cleveland, Ohio, in the library of the Cleveland Museum, and earned a master’s degree in English Literature at the Cleveland Institute of Art.

For the first part of the Second World War, the Marchal family lived in Hendaye, in the Basque country of France, which had not yet been occupied by the Germans. Jacqueline secretly made an American flag in anticipation of American troops landing on the Basque coast. When the troops marched in front of their home “Guéréza,” she proudly displayed her flag and invited them in for tea, coffee, and gateaux.

In 1954, Jacqueline married Giuseppe Englert, a composer, organist, and pupil of her father. The religious wedding ceremony took place in Hendaye, at St. Anne’s Church, with her father as organist, and Norbert Dufourcq acting as his stand-in to give her away. As a wedding present, Jean Langlais composed his suite of pieces known as the Organ Book for the couple. The final piece, Pasticcio, was built on two themes derived from their names in Braille notation. Shortly thereafter, Jacqueline and Giuseppe took up residence in a beautiful fourth-floor Paris apartment on the Boulevard de La Tour-Maubourg, facing the dome of Les Invalides. There they continued the salon tradition, entertaining students and friends from around the world.

Among Giuseppe and Jacqueline’s close friends was organ builder Victor Gonzalez. It was Gonzalez who had enlarged the house organ for Marchal at 22 rue Duroc, where he taught for so many years. Likewise, in 1952, he built and installed a similar two-manual instrument with 16 stops and 1,147 pipes for their apartment on Boulevard de La Tour-Maubourg. This became a favorite place for students to practice, and it so impressed their friends that Maurice Duruflé used it as a model for his own Gonzalez instrument.

Jacqueline continued to serve as Marchal’s guide for most of his subsequent nineteen tours to America, sometimes accompanied by Giuseppe after their marriage. Among the high points of these years were Marchal’s dedicatory recital in 1975, during his last U.S. concert tour, on the newly installed organ in Alice Tully Hall in New York, and many trips to Oberlin College, where he often served as guest faculty member. Even after Marchal’s death, she and Giuseppe continued to travel to America, where they participated and presented papers in events such as the symposium on André Marchal and Giuseppe Englert at Duquesne University, and a conference at the University of North Texas in Denton.

Giuseppe preceded Jacqueline in death in 2007. In the years since then, she was cared for and assisted by their nephew, Michel Snethlage, the son of Giuseppe’s sister, Amalie. Michel accompanied her to the subsequent Biarritz organ competitions, in annual trips to Lausanne, Switzerland each summer, and in Paris spent many hours organizing papers and mementos of her father, mainly for the Bibliothèque Nationale’s André Marchal Archives, and for her husband Giuseppe, including recordings of Marchal’s performances on the French National Radio, which have recently been issued on the Solstice label as Hommage à André Marchal. Even during the last weeks of her life, she remained vitally interested in all aspects of organ culture and continued to be particularly sensitive to the need for diplomatic handling of the various personalities in this field.

Jacqueline was memorialized in a service of benediction, on May 4, at the parish church of Saint-Pierre du Gros Caillou in Paris. Marchal student and international recitalist Susan Landale served as organist. Music included compositions by Bach, Franck, and Brahms—the style and interpretation of which is part of the great legacy of André Marchal. In attendance were about 150 friends, including three Americans: James David Christie, Jon Gillock, and Mrs. Michel Snethlage, the wife of her nephew. Cremation followed, and her ashes were placed next to those of her husband at Père Lachaise Cemetery on May 11.

It has been my very great privilege to be counted among her friends; to be the beneficiary of many of her great kindnesses during her long life. Among the most recent of her American visitors, in July 2011, was Jeremy Jelinek, age 15, a student of mine from Pittsburgh. Jeremy wrote the following in response to news of her death:

 

I will never forget last summer when I visited Paris. I was so blessed to have the opportunity to meet Mme. Englert. Her sweet and kind personality was personified through her generous hospitality. Not only had she invited me into her home, but she invited me to come at my leisure. She would have let me continue to play the pipe organ in her apartment all day. She insisted that I stay and make myself at home. Meeting Mme. Englert was a once in a lifetime opportunity and event that will always be memorable and special to me. I am so sad to see a woman of such Christ-like humbleness and selflessness pass away. However, I am assured that she has been taken to a more appropriate place—a place of eternal rest where she will experience true happiness and joy. Requiescat in pace.

 

Jeremy’s experience was only the latest of hundreds of students and friends over the years. All of them say, in response, “Amen.”

In 1982, Jacqueline and other supporters founded the Académie André Marchal in Biarritz, France. It was charged with keeping Marchal’s significant legacy alive and flourishing, and over the ensuing thirty years, it has done so. Jacqueline supported it with generous gifts of her time and treasure. It is the resolution of the members of the Académie, both French and American, that the next organ competition in performance and improvisation, to be held in Biarritz in October 2013, will be a memorial to Jacqueline. Those desiring to contribute may send a check, in dollars, to: Académie André Marchal, c/o Mr. Ralph Tilden, P. O. Box 2254, Banner Elk, NC 28604.

 

 

Ann Labounsky

Ann Labounsky, Ph.D., is Professor and Chair of Organ and Sacred Music at the Mary Pappert School of Music, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Author of Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music, she studied with André Marchal and Jean Langlais in Paris from 1962–1964.

Performance artists are most often remembered after their deaths through the compositions that they leave behind. Organ students learn to play works written by J. S. Bach or Franz Liszt, César Franck or Marcel Dupré, Olivier Messiaen or Jean Langlais; and thus their names and their works live on from one generation to another. For the rest, great performers are remembered during the lives of audiences who heard their memorable performances—great teachers, through the lives of their students.
David Craighead, legendary organ performer and now retired professor at the Eastman School of Music, has often lamented about the fleeting nature of fame. Some, like Arthur Poister, are remembered principally through competitions named for them, as in the Poister competition sponsored annually by Syracuse University where he taught; but even now, a few short generations after his death, there is included in the competition application a biographical sketch telling of his life and work.
For very many, there is no immortality of memory. In the words of the hymn: “Time, like an ever-rolling stream, soon bears its sons away. They fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the opening day.” It is a sad dictum that those who do not compose most often decompose without leaving a mark on succeeding generations.
There are exceptions, of course. One thinks, for example, of opera singer Enrico Caruso or conductor Arturo Toscanini, great artists whose names continue to resound with their successor performers and audiences beyond specialists in music history. In those cases, they were people who transcended the limitations of the performance practices of their day, and thus left the arts they served transformed forever. For organists, the name André Marchal, the thirtieth anniversary of whose death is commemorated in 2010, must be added.

Marchal’s legacy
There are reasons for which André Marchal will be remembered as a transformational figure in the history of organ building and organ performance. He had an important impact on the organ reform movement in France, and subsequently in America—an influence that is only now beginning to be understood.
In particular, he influenced the Neo-classical style of organ building and aesthetics, through his association with the French organs of Victor Gonzalez. These instruments, in turn, influenced the aesthetics and registration practices of later twentieth-century French organ composers such as Langlais, Duruflé, Alain, and Messiaen. At the same time, Marchal was a forerunner in the formation of the performance practice now common today, especially in the interpretation of earlier organ works.

Life
André Marchal entered the world at the end of the French Romantic era and lived until 1980. He was born without sight to middle-class parents in Paris, February 6, 1894. Both his father and grandfather noticed his musical talent at a very early age and encouraged his study of the piano.1 At the age of nine he enrolled at the Institute for the Young Blind (Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles–INJA) in Paris, where he studied organ with Adolphe Marty, and harmony with Albert Mahaut, both students of César Franck.
At the age of seventeen he entered Gigout’s organ class at the Paris Conservatory, obtaining first prize in organ and improvisation two years later. In 1915 he succeeded Augustin Barié as organist at Saint-Germain-des-Près. In 1917 he received the Prix d’excellence in counterpoint and fugue at the Conservatory, in the class of George Caussade. Four years later he was hired as an organ teacher at INJA, where he continued to teach from 1919 until 1959. He succeeded Joseph Bonnet as organist at the Church of Saint-Eustache in 1945, where he remained until 1963.

Recital career
His long and distinguished career as an organ virtuoso began in 1923, when he gave the premiere performance of Vierne’s Fourth Symphony, with the composer present, at the Paris Conservatory. Two years later, he followed with his second public performance at the Salle Gaveau in Paris. In 1927 he toured in Belgium, Switzerland, and Germany. Again, in 1928, he gave the premiere of a work by Vierne, this time the third suite of his Pièces de fantaisie.
In 1930, he made his first tour of the United States, having no assistance from a guide and without any knowledge of English. (It was through Arthur Quimby—a student of Nadia Boulanger, and Curator of Musical Arts at the Cleveland Art Museum, who had heard Marchal perform in Paris—that the first tour was arranged.) At the Cleveland Art Museum, he played ten recitals of the music of
J. S. Bach. Seth Bingham, who taught at Columbia University, welcomed him in New York City, where he performed an improvised symphony in four movements at the Wanamaker Auditorium in New York City.2 This was followed with recitals in Chicago and in Canada. In 1938 he gave 30 concerts in the United States and Canada.
After World War II he performed in London at the Royal Festival Hall in the presence of Queen Elizabeth. On that occasion he met the English journalist Felix Aprahamian, who became a close friend and accompanied him on the tour to Australia in 1953.
His concert career spanned half a century; between 1930 and 1975 he made 19 trips to the United States to perform and teach.3 His importance as a teacher drew students from many parts of the world to study with him in his home or at INJA. It should be noted that his first American student, Lee Erwin, who made a career as a theatre organist, came to study with him just prior to his tour in 1930 and was responsible for the first recording on his house organ. His recordings, which also spanned over four decades, likewise have had a continuing impact on organists throughout the world.

André Marchal and the Organ
Reform movement
The Organ Reform movement (or Neo-classical movement as it is called in France) began in the 1920s in Germany and France, spreading to the United States in the 1930s. Albert Schweitzer was a pivotal originator. In France, it was realized primarily through the work of three men in tandem: the performer and teacher, André Marchal; the noted historian and musicologist, Norbert Dufourcq (1904–1990); and the organbuilder, Victor Gonzalez (1877–1956).

Victor Gonzalez
Victor Gonzalez, who was originally from the Castile region of Spain, began his career with the firm of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, where he became their chief voicer. He then worked for the firms of Gutschenritter and Merklin. In 1929, after declining to assume leadership of the Cavaillé-Coll firm, he established his own firm with the help, encouragement, and financing assistance of Béranger de Miramon Fitz-James, founder of Association des Amis de l’Orgue, together with a group of de Miramon’s friends. Gonzalez’s first organ was built in 1926 for the home of Béranger de Miramon, followed the same year by an organ for the parish church in Ligugé. By 1937 there were 50 employees at the firm who worked to rebuild the Cavaillé-Coll organ at the Palais de Chaillot, and in the following year to renovate the organs at the Versailles chapel and the Cathedral of Rheims.
From 1929 until 1936, Rudolf von Beckerath worked for Gonzalez on restoration projects for organs in Saint-Eustache, Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Solesmes, Bailleul, the Goüin residence, and the world’s fair in Brussels in 1935, prior to founding his own firm. Though the Gonzalez name is no longer in use, he was succeeded in the business by his son, Fernand Gonzalez, and then by his son-in-law, George Danion. Fernand Gonzalez, who was killed in World War II, was responsible for the design of the Palais de Chaillot. After his death, Bernard Dargassies was charged with the maintenance of most of the Gonzalez organs.4
In 1931 Victor Gonzalez built an organ for the Condé estate of Joseph Bonnet.5 Gonzalez built this instrument very much in the Cavaillé-Coll style of that time, with two enclosed divisions, the usual plan for his house organs. He departed, however, from Cavaillé-Coll by adding a three-rank mixture on the Swell and a series of mutations. The romantic Merklin organ at Saint-Eustache, which was rebuilt by Gonzalez, and the Gonzalez organ from 1934 in the home of Henry Goüin are landmark examples of the wedding of early music to the recreated sounds of early instruments.6 These instruments included many mutation stops and mixtures, which allowed authentic performances of early music. Under the influence of Marchal and Dufourcq, Gonzalez became the leading builder in France for half a century.

Collaboration with Norbert
Dufourcq
Norbert Dufourcq’s collaboration with Marchal began in 1920, when he became Marchal’s organ student after studying for three years with Gustave Noël at the Cathedral in Orleans. Two years after beginning his organ study with Marchal, Dufourcq became principal organist of Saint-Merry in Paris, a post that he retained until his death in 1990. Dufourcq earned a degree in history from the Sorbonne (1923). In 1927 he was one of the founding members and secretary of Association des Amis de l’Orgue. Between 1932 and 1983 he was a member of the organ division of Commission of Historical Monuments. From 1941–1975 he served as professor of music history at the Paris Conservatory. (He also taught at the Collège Stanislas, Paris, from 1935 to 1946.)
During the years 1941 to 1975 Marchal performed many concerts in which Dufourcq provided the commentary. A gifted musicologist and persuasive public speaker, Dufourcq was able to give a poetic overview of the pieces performed, so that the uninitiated listener could follow. His mellifluous voice and the frequent use of the imperfect subjunctive case were noteworthy. Included in the commentaries was a series of eight concerts, entitled The Great Forms of Organ Music, with genres including prelude and fugue, toccata, chaconne, canzona, passacaglia, the chorale, partita, and fantasia. These recitals continued and included symphonic music and program music.
By 1933, Marchal and Dufourcq had become the leaders of the French national committee for the oversight of historic organs throughout France: the Commission des Monuments Historiques under the minister des Beaux Arts. Many of the nineteenth-century Cavaillé-Coll instruments, and earlier instruments by Clicquot, which were under the control of this commission, had fallen into disrepair and required renovations. This circumstance gave the commission the opportunity to rebuild those organs using the ideals of the Neo-classic design that Marchal, Dufourcq, and Gonzalez favored. Their work could be seen in the restorations at La Flèche, Saint-Gervais, Saint-Merry (where Dufourcq was organist), Les Invalides, the cathedrals of Auch, Soissons, and Rheims, the Palais de Chaillot, and the new concert organ in the French National Radio Studio 103, among many others. Many of the foundation stops were replaced with higher-pitched ranks and the reeds re-voiced. Marchal recorded on many of these instruments in the 1960s.
Influence on the Holtkamp Organ Company
This three-part collaboration among André Marchal, Norbert Dufourcq, and Victor Gonzalez, which affected the Neo-classical organ movement in France, subsequently came to the United States through the work of both Walter Holtkamp, Sr. and his son Walter Holtkamp, Jr., who wrote:

André Marchal came to the microcosm that is the Holtkamp Organ Company soon after World War II. While he had been in this country prior to the war, it was not until after that he brought his many talents to us with such marvelous results…. Both my father and I traveled to many cities of our country to sit with André Marchal at the console to evaluate our instruments. He would play and discourse upon the merits and demerits of that particular organ. From every encounter we came away with a new perspective of our work and our ideas.7
A transcript of one of these conversations with Marchal and the two Walter Holtkamps, Senior and Junior, which was recorded following a Marchal recital on the Holtkamp organ at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Cleveland, on May 10, 1957, gives an example of how the Holtkamps relied on Marchal’s advice regarding voicing:
WH (Walter Holtkamp, Sr.): André, we heard last night no 16′ Principal or 8′ Pedal Octave. My son and I would like to go to St. Paul’s and have a lesson on the use of the 16′ and what is lacking in this one.
AM (André Marchal): Your 16′ Principal is too large. There is too much gap in dynamic between the 16′ Subbass and the 16′ Principal. It is too big to be used without the reeds, and when the reeds are on the Subbass does just as well as the 16′ Principal.
WH: Perhaps this is a result of the 16′ Principal being placed against a stone wall rather than in the buffet as in the French organs.
AM: No, I noticed this same character at Baltimore, where the 16′ stands in the open. This is true on all your organs. The 8′ Pedal Octave is also too loud at St. Paul’s, Oberlin, Berkeley, Baltimore.
C (Walter Holtkamp, Jr.): I would like to know Mr. Marchal’s idea of the relationship as to loudness and quality between the Great 8′ Principal and Pedal 8′ Octave.
AM: In theory, the Pedal 8′ should be larger in scale than the Great 8′, but in use I really like the Pedal 8′ to be a little milder than the Great 8′. It could be a little more flutey.8

It is possible that Walter Holtkamp, Sr. heard Marchal’s series of ten recitals of the music of J. S. Bach at the Cleveland Museum of Art in March of 1930. In August of 1956, Walter Holtkamp, Sr. and Walter Blodgett, Curator of Musical Arts at the Cleveland Art Museum, drove to Methuen to hear Marchal play during the Summer Organ Institute, organized by Arthur Howes, and again the following year to hear him perform and record on the Holtkamp organ at MIT. Along with Fenner Douglas, in the early 1960s Walter Holtkamp and Walter Blodgett traveled to France to study the historic instruments there, including many by Gonzalez. In later years Marchal performed and taught frequently on Holtkamp organs at Syracuse University and Oberlin College. (Despite his love of Holtkamp organs, he often spoke of the similarity between the American builder G. Donald Harrison’s reeds and the French reeds that he loved.)

Giuseppe Englert
The composer Giuseppe Englert, another of Marchal’s students, who in 1954 married Marchal’s daughter Jacqueline, served as translator for the Holtkamps and Marchal during Marchal’s tours to the United States and the Holtkamps’ trips to France. The Englerts’ apartment in Paris, across the street from Les Invalides, was home to a Gonzalez organ, with a similar design to one in Marchal’s home. Maurice Duruflé admired this instrument and was inspired by it for the specification for the Gonzalez instrument in his own apartment. (The organ in Marchal’s home was originally a Gutschenritter, which was enlarged by Gonzalez.)

Marchal and performance practice
In the early 1920s Marchal continued to play in the style he had been taught by Gigout, a uniformly legato touch and a non-interpretive approach to the music of Bach and the Romantic composers. Gigout followed the tradition of the Lemmens school, learned from Widor and Guilmant. During his study of the music of the early masters, in preparation for a series of recitals of early music in 1923, Marchal rethought his approach to technique and interpretation. He was the first, in 1929, to play the two complete Masses of François Couperin. In an interview with Pierre Lucet for a series of recitals on the French National Radio in 1979, Marchal explained the process by which he changed his approach to early music and the organs upon which it could be performed:

Pierre Lucet: Maître, permit me to inquire first of all about your approach to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach:
Marchal: It [his approach] was made at two times. I was admitted to the Conservatory and at that time I listened to what was told to me, I learned technique; I was greatly in need of it. And it was from that point of view that I studied Bach. Ten years later [1921], in establishing my repertoire, I began to concertize, and relearned Bach in a completely different manner. This time I studied each piece in depth, trying to understand it in the best way possible; and having assimilated it, I tried to bring out the beauty of each piece by certain ways of playing; for example, the phrasing, the breaths, the registration. Obviously, at that time, there were few organs on which one could register well the music of Bach; we were still in the full Romantic period. But one could still look for lighter stops, clear in any case, which would permit the beauty of Bach’s counterpoint to emerge.
After having obtained my prize in organ [1913], while continuing to play the organ I worked a great deal on piano. Paul Braud, a student of Franck, took an interest in me. I became then more oriented toward the piano, which permitted me to know more music and to play more chamber music. I worked relentlessly . . . I purchased a small mechanical organ to practice my repertoire. It was at that time [1921] that I really tried to express Bach. My colleagues said: “Marchal? He plays the harpsichord”—and that was almost true, since my interpretations that were closest to what I hoped them to be were like the marvelous ones of Wanda Landowska on her harpsichord.9

This process of searching for the appropriate style for early music and the instruments that would bring it to life continued for him through the early 1930s, when he gave a series of recitals of early music on Neo-classical instruments built by Gonzalez. After 1930, Marchal played very differently from his teacher, Gigout, and the other blind teachers from INJA. It was as if he grasped the essence of the music from within himself. His style was powerful, lyrical, and always convincing. His personality was also very strong. There was a radiance about him and a “joie de vivre” that came through in every piece that he played.
His touch was a radical departure from the 19th-century seamless legato that was carried on by Marcel Dupré and his predecessors. He had an infinite variety of touches. By the 1940s Marchal had become one of the most popular performers in France. The public related easily to the musicality of Marchal’s playing and to his vibrant personality. It is not surprising that such a different style—full of authentic poetry and lyricism—would win the hearts of the French public as well as those from other countries. It must also be said that with him and all the other blind organists, there was also something captivating at seeing a blind person being led onto the stage and then left alone to play the instrument, no matter how large, completely independently. When one contemplates the style of playing during the 1920s through the 1950s, which was completely dominated by the legato Romantic style, what is utterly amazing is this new, radically different sound and interpretation. Begun by Marchal, it was later adopted by Marie-Claire Alain and others.
Guilmant and Pirro, in the monumental Archives des Maîtres de l’Orgue, 1897–1910 (volumes 1–10 available online), made available for the first time, at the end of the 19th century, the music of Couperin, de Grigny, Clérambault, and many others. Although Guilmant and Pirro recommended the use of the Cornet registration, their grounding in the 19th-century style of playing and registration prevented them from recommending for this early music a complementary early style and registration. Likewise, the six volumes of Joseph Bonnet’s Historical Organ Recitals series, published between 1917 and 1940, continued the same style of playing and registrations. Bonnet’s role in the movement, however, should not be ignored. He was intensely interested in early music but played it in the manner that he had been taught by Guilmant.
Although he had substituted for his teacher, Eugène Gigout, as organ teacher at the Paris Conservatory, Marchal was never connected to any school in France except at INJA and the summer school of Nadia Boulanger in Fontainebleau. Nonetheless, so many students requested Fulbright grants to study with him, that by the 1950s he agreed to be referred to as a school himself. In America, many other organists fell under his influence through the many masterclasses he gave at Oberlin College, Syracuse University, Union Theological Seminary, Northwestern University, the universities of Illinois and Indiana, the Eastman School of Music, and the Organ Institute in Methuen.

Marchal’s recordings
In the release on CD (Arbiter, 2003) of his first recordings, originally recorded between 1936 and 1948 at Saint-Eustache and the Goüin residence, one can easily understand Marchal’s interest in early music and in the type of instrument that would be well suited to the music of earlier periods. The lyricism, so unlike the usual style of playing during the 1940s, was notably displayed in his performance of the Bach chorale prelude O Mensch bewein dein Sünde gross. His use of free trills, so unlike the measured trills found in the playing of his contemporaries, was quite a departure from the traditional style of playing.
The subtle rubato in all the playing is striking. In the Bach Passacaglia and Fugue, the phrasing of each variation gives life to the great work. The articulation of the pedal line and the variety in the registrations gives much interest to the form of the piece. What is compelling in all of his playing is the strength of the rhythm, especially noticeable in the fugue of this work. While listening to his performances, one senses that it should not be performed otherwise, that it is right.
What we understand today of the stylus fantasticus can already be heard in Marchal’s opening performance from 1948 of Buxtehude’s Prelude and Fugue in F-sharp Minor. There is considerable contrast between the free sections and the fugal sections. His personality comes alive in his commentary for demonstrating each stop, with brief improvisations that give fine examples of this style of organbuilding. The Blow Toccata in D Minor brings out the bass in the reed registers with great clarity. Listening to these improvisations on the individual sonorities of the Gonzalez house organ in the Goüin house gives a clear picture of this aesthetic: a Neo-classical organ that, in America, we would call an eclectic organ.
Other recordings include:
Chefs d’œuvres pour orgue de J.S. Bach “10 de répertoire” en 1989. Zurich, Grossmünster 1964. MUSIDISC 203412 AD 650.
Orgues et organistes français du XXè siècle (1900–1950) by EMI Classics (2002) as well as Jeux et registrations de l’orgue, Improvisations, Toccata de Gigout, Final de la 4ème Symphonie de Vierne, Apparition de l’Eglise éternelle de Messiaen, Choral dorien de J. Alain, Saint-Merry, 1958 et 1976. EMI Classics, 1 CD, 71716 2 (1997), Saint-Merry et Saint-Eustache.
The Organ Historical Society website lists the two recordings available through Arbiter (135 and 111) with these annotations:
The works by Buxtehude, Bach, Blow, Purcell, Sweelinck and Vierne were recorded by André Marchal (1894–1980) in April 1948, on the organ at St. Eustache in Paris, then a Merklin which had been rebuilt by Victor Gonzalez in 1927–32. In 1936, the Pathé firm released a 12-disc set entitled Three Centuries of Organ Music from which Marchal’s performances of Cabezon, Santa Maria, Landino, and Palestrina are taken. These first recordings of these early works are performed on an organ designed especially for early music and completed in 1934 by Victor Gonzalez at the home of Henry Goüin in Paris. Marchal also demonstrates the organ stop-by-stop, and narrates his demonstration. Available on Arbiter-135.
Arbiter 111 is described:

This unique CD reissues the 1956 stereo recordings made by André Marchal on his 3/28 house organ built by Gonzalez. The fidelity of the recording is unusually fine, capturing Marchal’s way with 12 of the Bach Orgelbüchlein, BWV 603–612, 614–615, and Toccata, Adagio & Fugue in C, BWV 564. There are no revelations here for most of us, and the organ is located in an anechoic environment. The CD is a must for Marchal fans, who will revel in his spoken description and demonstration of the organ.
Although more difficult to locate, it is possible to find in libraries the Lumen recordings of Franck and early French music (Grand Prix du disque 1952); the Bach large fantasies and fugues by Ducretet Thomson; the Clérambault recordings at Auch Cathedral, by LDE 3231; many of these recordings contain the commentaries by Norbert Dufourcq. The Unicorn recordings from MIT (UNLP 1046–1048) of Bach and early French music on the large Holtkamp organ there from the 1950s are excellent.
Marchal’s Complete Organ Works of César Franck, originally released by Erato, has been reissued by Solstice ([email protected]). This recording was awarded the coveted Diapason d’Or. There are many unpublished recordings (some from Syracuse from 1960s, and two recordings from his last American tour in 1974 at the Church of the Assumption in Bellevue, Pennsylvania and in Rochester, New York) as well as many given on the French National Radio.

His teaching and legacy
His system of teaching usually began with having the student play a chorale prelude from Bach’s Orgelbüchlein. He usually heard a piece only one time giving all his ideas in the one lesson. For the early French music he did not use “notes inégales” during the 1960s, but by the 1970s he realized that this was, in practice, the style of this music, and adopted its use. His mind was always engaged and he heard every phrasing and nuance. His use of agogic accents to bring out the shape of a phrase was notable. Above all, he made each part sing independently of the other voices regardless of the period in which it was written. He was demanding especially with his more gifted pupils, desirous that each one achieve his/her highest potential.
His influence is continued not only in the legacy of performance practice and organbuilding. A number of publications and prizes have appeared since 1980: a thesis by Lynn Trapp at the University of Kansas (Lawrence, 1982), “The Legacy of André Marchal;” “Tribute to André Marchal” reprint of the L’Orgue Dossier I in 1997, with the addition of tributes by many American students who did not have the opportunity to be included in the original document; and prizes at the biennial Marchal competition in Biarritz.
The Académie André Marchal was founded in Biarritz, France in 1982 by Denise Limonaire to perpetuate the memory of this musical giant, his innovative style of performance, his neo-classical influence on organbuilding, and his rediscovery of early music. Susan Landale serves as president of the Académie, with Jacqueline Englert-Marchal as honorary president. Among other projects, the Académie has partnered with the town of Biarritz to sponsor the “Prix André Marchal,” an international organ competition with prizes in interpretation and improvisation. The competition is held every two years and has grown in quality and size. The ninth competition, held in 2009, accepted eighteen candidates of twelve nationalities. Americans desirous of supporting this valid and significant mission are strongly invited to become members; dues of $80 for two years may be mailed to Ralph Tilden at P.O. Box 2254, Banner Elk, NC 28604. André Marchal awards are given at Duquesne University, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for excellence in organ performance.
His impact as a teacher was important. His blind students who obtained the first prize in organ at the Paris Conservatory included: André Stiegler, 1925; Jean Langlais and Jean Laporte, 1930; Gaston Litaize, 1931; Antoine Reboulot, 1936; Xavier Dufresse, 1952; Georges Robert, 1953; Louis Thiry, 1958; Jean Wallet, 1963; Jean-Pierre Leguay, 1966 (who had studied with both Litaize and Marchal). Two other pupils who obtained the first prize who were sighted were Noëlie Pierront, 1925, and Anne Marie Barat, 1976.
His other pupils included Corliss Arnold, Linda Clark, Craig Cramer, Philip Crozier, Alan Dominicci, Norbert Dufourcq, Giuseppe Englert, Lee Erwin (the first American pupil before 1930), Robert Eshenour, John Fenstermaker, Philip Gehring, Emily Gibson, Lester Groom, Jerald Hamilton, Ruth Harris, William Hays, Allan Hobbs, Howard Jewell, Elna Johnson, Margaret Kemper, Ralph Kneeream, Suzanne Kornprobst, Marilou Kratzenstein, Charles Krigbaum, Ann Labounsky, Susan Landale, David Liddle, Denise Limonaire, Robert Lodine, Alan Long, Robert Sutherland Lord, Chamin Walker Meadows, Kathryn Moen, Earline Moulder, Margaret Mueller, Arsène Muzerelle, Lois Pardue, Garth Peacock, Stephen Rumpf, Daniel and David Simpson, Robert Sirota, Rev. Victoria Sirota, Carl Staplin, Roger Stiegler, Edith Strom, Haskell Thompson, Ralph Tilden, Parvin Titus, Robert Judith Truitt, Marie-Antoinette Vernières, Gail Walton, Nicole Wild, and Mary Alice Wotring.

Influence on subsequent
composers
His influence on subsequent composers such as Langlais, Duruflé, Alain, and Messiaen in their approaches to organ registration is likewise important to this reflection of André Marchal upon the 30th anniversary of his death. Jean Langlais studied organ with Marchal at INJA and at his home and was influenced by the work of Gonzalez in these two venues, as well as the organ at the Palais de Chaillot, where he performed his first symphony in 1943. His choice of the Schwenkedel organs of Neo-classical design, which he installed in his home and at the Institute Valentin Haüy, next door to INJA, shows this influence. The stops that he added to the organ at Sainte-Clotilde in 1962 included a Larigot 11⁄3′ on the Positif, a Prestant 4′ and Clairon 2′ on the Récit, and a Prestant 4′ and Doublette 2′ on the Pédale.10
The many Neo-classical registrations in his pieces likewise show this influence. For example, even the titles of a number of his pieces refer to these types of registrations: Dialogue sur les mixtures (Suite brève, 1947) and all the movements of Suite française (1948), which are based on titles found in classical French organ music such as Prélude sur les grands jeux and Contrepoint sur les jeux d’anches, and Suite baroque (1973).
As I have already mentioned, Maurice Duruflé often visited the home of Giuseppe Englert to study the specifications and dimensions of the Gonzalez organ, which inspired him for his house organ, also built by Gonzalez. Englert’s house organ was based on the specifications of Marchal’s house organ.11 In Duruflé’s organ works, even starting with the Scherzo from 1926, his registrations depart from the normal 19th-century models.
Marchal and Jehan Alain’s father, Albert Alain—an amateur organbuilder—were close friends and worked together on ideas for the specifications for their house organs. Similarities can be seen in the specifications of each.12 When Marchal had built his organ with a rather classic Positif, Albert Alain wanted to do the same thing.13 Jehan Alain’s first experiences of organ music in his home were influenced by the aesthetics of Marchal and Gonzalez. Jehan Alain and Marchal enjoyed playing and improvising together in Alain’s home. A very early work, Variations sur un thème de Clément Jannequin, demonstrates registrations that call for Neo-classical stops as well as the recall of early music in the title of the piece. Another work of Jehan Alain, Le Jardin suspendu, calls for a typically classical French stop, the Gros Nasard 51⁄3′ on the Positif. Marchal was among the first organists to perform Alain’s music, including Litanies, Variations sur un theme de Clément Jannequin, and Danses à Agni Yavishta, and had them transcribed into Braille notation.
Olivier Messiaen was also influenced by the Neo-classical trends in France. He changed the Cavaillé-Coll organ at La Trinité, where he was organist from 1930 until 1991, to include many mutation stops that were not part of the original specification. Even his earliest organ work, Le banquet céleste (1928), is a departure from the normal registration practices of the period, including Flûte 4′, Nasard 22⁄3′, Doublette 2′, and Piccolo 1′ for the pedal line. As he continued to compose, his works called more frequently for higher-pitched sonorities, often to imitate birds. One could say that it was a far cry from D’Aquin’s imitative harpsichord piece mimicking the cuckoo, but these sounds were all part of an interest in both the future and the past.

Conclusion
It is time to re-evaluate André Marchal’s contributions to the organ reform movement in France; his impact on organbuilding in the United States, particularly in his relationships to Walter Holtkamp and Walter Blodgett as well as Fenner Douglas; and his influence on the leading organ composers of the 20th century: Langlais, Alain, Duruflé, and Messiaen. In light of the development of early organ techniques and the number of publications that have been published and used in the thirty years since his death, it is time to listen again to Marchal’s recordings with a discerning mind and ask where his place is in the development of performance practice.
One certainly hears a wide variety of touches in all his playing. What was his “ordinary” touch? What were the main differences between his style and that of Joseph Bonnet, Alexandre Guilmant, and Marie-Claire Alain? Robert Noehren admired the sensitivity of his touch both on tracker and electric actions. It is also time to re-evaluate his influence on organ building; for example, in the composition of the Plein jeu mixture, which reserved the breaks until after middle C to enhance the clarity of the polyphonic line, and his use of different mixtures for each polyphonic composition that he performed.
Consider, too, the changes in the organ registrations in the music of Duruflé, Alain, Messiaen, and Langlais as compared to many other composers of the 20th century. The required foundations plus reeds on each manual, as a given for organ registration, changed as a result of Marchal’s impact on the Neo-classical organ in France. There is, indeed, much to ponder.
Perhaps Norbert Dufourcq, who was the most eloquent of his collaborators, best expressed the essence of his artistry:

André Marchal seemed to have found by himself the sources to which he probed the depths of his rich and attractive personality: the discovery of the works of the French organists of the 17th and 18th centuries, that of the complete works of Bach (he played almost all of it), of Cabezón, Frescobaldi, Buxtehude . . . It was for André Marchal to penetrate the secrets of a page of music, to discover the tempo, in searching the phrases, in marking the strong pulses, the weak pulses, without ever breaking the melodic line nor the polyphonic structure, without ever losing a rhythm which gave a work its forward motion, its line. One has praised the sensitivity of the Maître. It is better perhaps to speak of his sense of poetry.
To this static but mysterious and majestic instrument, he knew how to assure a poetic and lyric “aura” that he insisted on creating in a convincing phrasing with thousands of details in a style made more subtle by the use of minimal retards; of suspensions slightly brought out or by the imperious accents thrown into the center of the discourse. Goodbye to the inexpressive and neutral legato, André Marchal sought to impose on his instrument a suppleness with the use of imperceptible tensions—jolts of the soul—which did not stop. It is in this that he transformed the lens of the entire school of the organ, in France as in America . . . Under his fingers the organ no longer preached in an impersonal manner; under his fingers, the melodies rushed into the nave to touch the heart of each person. But it was never he who descended upon us. It was us, whom he seized with love, and attracted us to him.14 ■

 

Organist, choir director, composer, and teacher Roberta Bitgood died on April 15 at Lawrence and Memorial Hospital, New London, Connecticut, after a brief illness. She was 99. Dr. Bitgood, formerly of Quaker Hill, had been a resident of the Odd Fellows Home of Connecticut (Fairview) in Groton. She was also known locally as Roberta Wiersma, her married name.
During a long career in sacred music, Bitgood served as minister of music and organist in churches and synagogues throughout the United States. She worked first in New Jersey (Bloomfield), later in California (Riverside), and later still in Connecticut (Mystic and Waterford), as well as in upper New York state (Buffalo) and Michigan (Detroit, Bay City, and Battle Creek). She published more than 70 choral and organ compositions, including several pieces for organ and other instruments, and two choral cantatas based on biblical narratives. Her enthusiasm for making music accessible to all, and the broad scope of her musical activities, made her one of the most well-known 20th-century American music educators. She was known to organists worldwide as a committed yet down-to-earth professional leader, and to volunteer choir singers in many states as an inspiring and witty teacher.
Roberta Bitgood was born in New London on January 15, 1908, and began study of the violin at age 5. As a student at the Williams Memorial Institute (1920–24), she was already well known as a gifted performer on the violin and organ in local churches and school orchestras. Graduating with honors from Connecticut College for Women, she received postgraduate and conservatory training in New York, where she was awarded the William C. Carl Medal upon graduation from the Guilmant Organ School (1930), became a Fellow of the American Guild of Organists (also 1930), and earned a master’s degree in music education from Teacher’s College at Columbia University (1932), a master’s degree in sacred music from Union Theological Seminary (1935), and later the doctoral degree in sacred music (1945), also from Union.
Dr. Bitgood was honored for her achievements and service to her profession and maintained an active relationship with her alma mater through fundraising efforts and performances at annual college reunions. In 1974 she was awarded the Connecticut College Medal, and in 1975 was elected president of the American Guild of Organists, continuing until 1981. In 1976, upon retirement from full-time employment in Michigan, Dr. Bitgood returned to her family home in Connecticut, serving for another 18 years in local churches and synagogues.
In 1993, the New London AGO chapter established an annual scholarship competition for new organists in Dr. Bitgood’s honor, as part of a celebration of her contributions to sacred music and her 85th birthday. After retiring from professional life in 1999, Dr. Bitgood remained at home under the care of her family until 2003, when she moved to Groton. A memorial service took place April 21 at St. James Church, New London. Contributions may be made to the New London AGO-Bitgood Scholarship (P.O. Box 423, Quaker Hill, CT 06375), or to the Visiting Nurses Association of Southeastern Connecticut (Waterford).

Giuseppe G. Englert died of cancer on March 29 in Paris. He was 80. Born to Swiss parents in Fiesole, Italy, in 1927, he studied theory and composition with Willy Burkhard at the Zurich Conservatory (1945–48). From 1958 to 1963 he took part in the international summer courses at Darmstadt, attending seminars given by Leibowitz and Cage, among others. From 1970 to 1982 he taught at the University of Paris VIII–Vincennes, where he became a member of the computer department’s Art et Informatique group in 1973. From 1964 to 1969 he was a co-director of the Centre de Musique, an organization founded by Keith Humble that promoted performances of new music at the American Center for Students and Artists in Paris. He joined the Groupe Art et Informatique de Vincennes (GAIV) in the computer department of the same university in 1973. As a composer and performer he toured Europe, Israel, and the United States. Since 1986 he was associated with the Groupe d’Etude et Réalisation Musicales (GERM) founded by Pierre Mariétan in Paris.
In the 1950s Englert studied organ with André Marchal and substituted for him at the church of St. Eustache in Paris. He accompanied André Marchal on a number of his American tours and gave lectures on organbuilding at several American universities. In 1956 he attended the Organ Institute at Methuen Memorial Hall, where he was the translator for André Marchal. He assisted Peter Bartok in the Unicorn recordings of Marchal in 1957 at MIT in Cambridge. In 1961 in Oberlin, Ohio, he lectured on French organbuilding and at the 1963 Midwinter Conference on Church Music at Northwestern University, Evanston. He was married to Jacqueline Marchal in 1954. American organists familiar with Langlais’ Organ Book may remember that it was dedicated to Jacqueline Marchal as a wedding gift and the last piece, “Pasticcio,” contains the names of both Jacqueline and Giuseppe.
Englert’s works include orchestral pieces, chamber music, compositions for organ, cello, and works for ‘new music theatre’ and electronic music on tape for live performance using analog and digital means of production. In 1975 and 1976 he worked in the digital electronic music studio at SUNY/Albany, in 1977 at the New York Experimental Intermedia Foundation, and in 1978 in San Diego for the Ford Foundation at the Center for Music Experiment (CME).
Englert’s works for organ include: Palestra 64 (1959–64) and GZ50 Musica Barbara pro Organo (1979), the latter recorded by Gerd Zacher. In reference to his compositions for organ he stated:
The organ has always played a major role in my musical thinking. But it may be precisely because I know the instrument so well that I’ve written so little for it. The problem with the organ is that no two instruments are identical. Consequently the interpreter needs far more freedom because he or she has to play a piece differently depending on the instrument and the hall or church in which it stands. When I began working with a computer, I was thrilled by the possibility of programming the necessary freedom into an organ composition, in other words, of using a computer program to determine and define indeterminacy. That led to GZ50, the organ piece I wrote for Gerd Zacher’s fiftieth birthday. It gives Zacher enormous freedom of interpretation. Time values are notated proportionally, but the duration of each page is not fixed. That leaves tempo completely to the performer, and the same holds true for tone color.
Until his last days he was surrounded by his former students and his nurses who recalled that they took him to a piano where he improvised a fugue. A large number of friends, colleagues, and former students attended the graveside funeral held April 2 at Père-Lachaise Cemetery. During the interment, Marchal’s recordings of portions of Bach’s Orgelbüchlein were played, interspersed with readings and tributes. Englert is survived by his wife, Jacqueline Englert-Marchal, a nephew and a niece. Contributions may be made to the Académie André Marchal, c/o Ralph Tilden, “Longview,” P.O. Box 2254, Banner Elk, NC 28604.
—Ann Labounsky

Kenneth W. Matthews died January 19 in San Francisco at the age of 54. Born in Atlanta, Georgia, his first music lessons were with his father, who played organ in churches and in restaurants. Matthews earned a BA in music from Stetson University in 1976 and an MA in sacred music from Yale Divinity School in 1978. He then moved to San Francisco to study with Richard Purvis at Grace Cathedral. He also studied in Paris with Marie-Louise Langlais and played recitals in France.
Matthews was director of music at Old First Presbyterian Church in San Francisco from 1998 until his death. He had previously served All Saints Episcopal Church and the First Church of Christ, Scientist, in San Francisco, the First Unitarian Church of Berkeley, and St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Belvedere. He also supervised the support staff at Boalt Hall at the University of California, Berkeley, 1990–96. He played recitals at the California Palace of the Legion of Honor and at national conventions of the Organ Historical Society. A memorial service took place at Old First Presbyterian Church on February 24.
Monsignor Richard J. Schuler, a major figure in sacred music in the 20th century and founder of the Church Music Association of America, died April 20 at the age of 87. Monsignor Schuler served as pastor at St. Agnes Church in St. Paul, Minnesota, for 32 years, from 1969–2001, and was the founding director of the Twin Cities Catholic Chorale in 1956.
Born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, December 30, 1920, he attended DeLaSalle High School and the College of St. Thomas before entering the St. Paul Seminary. He was ordained a priest on August 18, 1945, and was assigned to Nazareth Hall Preparatory Seminary to teach Latin and music. He held music degrees from the Eastman School of Music (M.A.) and the University of Minnesota (Ph.D.), and in 1954 spent a year of study of Renaissance music manuscripts at the Vatican Library on a Fulbright scholarship from the United States government.
An excellent organist and overall musician, he was also a pioneer in the use of large-scale polyphony and symphonic sung Masses after the Second Vatican Council. He is the author of many articles and lengthy studies on music and the liturgy. A funeral mass took place on April 24 at St. Agnes Church in St. Paul. Members of the Twin Cities Catholic Chorale sang the Mozart Requiem with orchestral accompaniment.

Gordon T. Whitley died April 20 at Obici Hospital in Suffolk, Virginia, from congestive heart failure. He was 66. Born November 16, 1940, to Moses and Mary Whitley in Suffolk, he attended Peabody Conservatory. His business included ownership of a beauty salon located in his home. Churches he had served as organist and choirmaster included St. Bride’s Episcopal, Norfolk, Virginia, Faith Lutheran Church in Suffolk, and Murfreesboro (North Carolina) Baptist Church. At the time of his death he was a countertenor in the choir at Trinity Episcopal Church in Portsmouth, Virginia.
Whitley was a member of St. Grace and St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Baltimore. A former dean of AGO chapters in Maryland and Virginia, he was a member of Northeastern North Carolina AGO chapter, serving as dean from 1997–1999. He was a member of the Association of Anglican Musicians and the Friends of European Cathedrals. Survivors include a niece and a sister-in-law. A memorial service was held on April 22 at R. W. Baker Funeral Home Chapel in Suffolk.
—Rodney Trueblood

Alec Wyton died on March 18 at Danbury Hospital in Danbury, Connecticut, at the age of 85. He had been a resident of Ridgefield, Connecticut, for the last 20 years. His career included two decades as organist and choirmaster at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City. He was president of the American Guild of Organists 1964–69 and twice served as dean of the New York City chapter.
Born in London on August 3, 1921, he received his early musical training as a boy chorister and held his first job as organist at age 11. He earned the BA from the Royal Academy of Music and the MA from Oxford University and was awarded fellowships in five professional societies. In 1946 he was appointed organist-choirmaster at St. Matthew’s Church, Northampton, and also served as conductor of the Northampton Bach Choir and Orchestra. In 1950 he was appointed organist-choirmaster at Christ Church Cathedral in St. Louis, Missouri. In 1954 he was appointed to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City, where he also served as headmaster of the cathedral choir school 1954–62.
Wyton left the cathedral in 1974 to become organist-choirmaster at St. James’ Church, Madison Avenue, in New York City. At that time he also became coordinator of the Standing Commission on Church Music that produced The Hymnal 1982 for the Episcopal Church. In 1987 he left St. James’ Church to become minister of music at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Ridgefield, Connecticut, a position he held until his retirement in 1997.
Wyton’s published compositions number more than 100. In addition to his work on the Standing Commission on Church Music, he edited numerous publications, including Anglican Chant Psalter (Church Publishing, Inc.), and he was a member of the editorial team that produced Ecumenical Praise (Hope Publishing).
Wyton founded the church music department at the Manhattan School of Music in 1984, serving as chairman until 1990. He also taught at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and was chairman of the music department at Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey. He was awarded honorary doctorates from Susquehanna University and Virginia Theological Seminary. Services were held at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Ridgefield, Connecticut.

Andrew Scanlon

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

 

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Did you audition anywhere else besides Eastman?

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

 

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

No, that didn’t occur to me! 

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

How many students were studying organ then?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Can you remember your degree recitals?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

It didn’t exist! 

 

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

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

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

 

Were there other organ teachers?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Would you care to elaborate?

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

When did you ultimately attempt the Fellowship exam? 

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

 

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

There are a number of reasons:

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Have there been still more recent developments?

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Realizing that you could retire, what keeps you going?

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

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

 

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

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

 

What else would you like to say?

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

 

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

Paris Week, July 2-9, 2001

by Kay McAfee

Kay McAfee is professor of organ and music history at Henderson State University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, where she also serves as organist for First United Methodist Church.

The ninth biennial seminar attracted 80 participants who assembled in Paris anticipating the first week of playing time on the great instruments, lessons and classes with master teachers, participants' recitals, and the hospitality of our gracious hosts. At the Paris Conservatory, director Christina Harmon introduced co-director Marie-Louise Langlais, who received a warm round of applause. Participants introduced themselves and greeted old friends from previous seminars. Two student scholarship winners were announced: Josh Melson of Cherry Hill, New Jersey and a student at Centenary College in Shreveport, Louisiana; and Victor Johnson, a student at the University of Texas at Arlington and organist/composer-in-residence at Hamilton Park Baptist Church in Richardson, Texas.

 

The seminar always includes discourses about the instruments, improvisations by resident organists, and playing time for participants at the Schola Cantorum, Notre Dame de Paris, Les Invalides, Saint-Roch, La Madeleine, Sainte-Clotilde, La Trinité, Notre-Dame-des-Champs, Saint-Severin, Saint-Etienne-du-Mont, and Saint-Sulpice. The itinerary this year added visits to Notre Dame d'Auteuil, Saint-Augustin, Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, Saint-Eustace, and Dupré's home at Meudon.

Group and private lessons took place throughout the week with instructors Yanka Hekimova (Saint Eustace), Naji Hakim (La Trinité), Françoise Levechin (Saint-Roch), Lynne Davis (American Cathedral), François Espinasse (Saint Severin), Susan Landale (Les Inva-lides), and Marie-Louise Langlais (Sainte-Clotilde).

Participants who had contributed to the student scholarship fund were treated to a lovely wine and cheese reception at the apartment of Daniel and Odile Roth. Roth led everyone to his basement studio which houses a two-manual organ and a grand piano. The walls are filled with posters, memorabilia, and photographs, including those of Schweitzer, Widor, Bach, Franck, and Conrad Bernier. Letters and musical quotes from Kodály, Widor, Schmitt, Messiaen, Guilmant, and Deutilleux overlook the study. Later in the week, Roth, titular organist at Saint-Sulpice, would give the history of the instrument, improvise, and spend nearly six hours assisting participants to play.

Paris Conservatory

At the Conservatory, Jean-Charles Robin, 19-year-old student of Mme. Langlais, improvised on the tune "National Hymn" (God of Our Fathers), given an interesting twist by David Erwin who submitted it. Mme. Langlais solicited literature and performers for the participants' recital at St-Roch.

Saint-Augustin

Saint-Augustin, within short walking distance of the Paris Conservatory, was Gigout's church. He was titulaire there from 1863 until his death in 1925. Assistant organist Didier Matry played Gigout, a Cochereau improvisation, and his own improvisation.

Saint-Roch

Sylvie Mallet, David Erwin, and Mme. Langlais assisted for the recital at St-Roch. Advertised in the Paris weekly publication for arts events, the program attracted a great number of listeners. Eighteen participants played the marvelous four-manual, 53-stop, 1770 Clicquot instrument which was restored and enlarged by Cavaillé-Coll from 1840 to 1862. It boasts reeds which are among the most powerful in Paris. Literature included works by de Grigny, du Mage, François and Louis Couperin, Clérambault, Hakim, Vierne, Honegger, Langlais, Salomé, Widor, Sejan, and Lanquetuit. Performers included Mary Milligan (Denver, Colorado), Yolanda Yang (Irvine, California), Jay MacCubbin (Providence, Rhode Island), Helen Van Abbema Rodgers (Fairhope, Alabama), Shinook Lee (New York City), Josh Melson, Thomas Hanna (West Palm Beach, Florida), Jack W. Jones (Palm Beach, Florida), Esther Wideman (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania), Kay McAfee (Arkadelphia, Arkansas), Carl Schwartz (Silver Spring, Maryland), Eunice Ford (Huntsville, Alabama), David Erwin (Alexandria, Virginia), John Walko (San Francisco, California), Barbara Reid (Dallas, Texas), Lois Holdridge (Fullerton, California), Angela Kraft Cross (San Francisco), and Randy Runyon (Oxford, Ohio).

La Trinité

Naji Hakim, titular organist at La Trinité, was protégé and designated successor of Messiaen. New seminar participants as well as returning veterans enjoy the devotion of Parisian organists to the heritage of their instruments and the tribute paid their predecessors. None is more enthusiastic than Hakim. Guilmant's heritage at La Trinité includes the story of his horror at returning from America to find his instrument dismantled and destroyed. Cavaillé-Coll rebuilt the organ and today it exists as the instrument best suited for Messiaen's music.

Hakim played the outer movements of Messiaen's Messe de la Pentecôte. He spoke of Messiaen's improvisation and how he freely moved within many styles: Classical, Mendelssohn, Widor. The Livre du Saint Sacrement exploits Messiaen's improvisatory gifts. Hakim played his newest composition, The Last Judgement, which incorporates plainsong melodies: "Dies Irae," "In Paradisum," Alleluia of the Epiphany, and Gloria from Missa de Angelis. He improvised on "The Star Spangled Banner" since this group was there on July 4.

Notre-Dames-des-Champs

Marie-Bernadette Dufourcet, titular organist at Notre-Dame-des-Champs, treated participants to the sound of the 90% original Cavaillé-Coll design and disposition. It contains one of the most beautiful harmonic flutes and rich montres.

Saint-Vincent-de-Paul

At Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, where Léon Boëllmann served as titular organist, Marie-Louise Langlais introduced Pierre Cambourian, the current titulaire, who played the 1849 Cavaillé-Coll choir organ. Its action and stops have remained untouched and it enjoys exquisite balance of foundations, mutations, and reeds. Of three manuals with a short Récit, it has a beautiful harmonic flute, vox humana, and 16' basson on the Récit. The church was designed in the Neo-Classical style, after La Madeleine. The four-manual Cavaillé-Coll Grand Orgue, originally comparable to the La Madeleine organ, is now of Neo-Classical design, refurbished by Gonzalez in 1970, and nothing plays on the fourth manual. It is of 66 stops, although 91 were originally planned. Participants enjoyed generous playing time.

Saint-Louis des Invalides

In the evening the entire group gathered at Église Saint Louis des Invalides to hear informative discussion and playing by Susan Landale, who is one of three organists for the church. The Thierry family built the first instrument, a four-manual organ, from 1679 to 1687. The Clicquot family (who were also in the champagne business) looked after it. Louis XIV's architect, Jules-Hardouin Mansart, designed the case with its gilded sculptures. Some pipework remains from Thierry: the cromorne, fonds, bourdon and doublette in the Grand Orgue, and Positiv nazard and 2'. In 1843 a full-scale restoration was ordered. Three firms submitted proposals: Cavaillé-Coll, Ducroquet, and the winner of the contract, Gadault. Gadault built a third-rate Romantic organ, completely destroying the Classical organ of Thierry. There are, however, very fine reeds in the Swell. The Gadault organ was dedicated in 1853.

In 1942, Bernard Gavoty, a pupil of Dupré and a respected and feared music critic, was appointed organist at Les Invalides. He moved within elegant Parisian circles, and was the right person to collect money for a rebuild of the organ. In 1955, it was decided to engage the Beuchet-Debierre firm, which was instructed to build a Neo-Classical instrument. The console was electrified and the compass of manuals and pedals extended. The chamades were added in 1979.

According to Landale, the principal miscalculation of the Neo-Classical movement was the idea that if there were mixtures one could play Bach. It didn't matter if the mixtures didn't fit well with the foundations. The other problem was cramming a large amount of pipes into a small space (the original case) in order to get more ranks. As a result, the scaling went smaller and the sound was thinner. But to consider the music of Tournemire, Duruflé, Messaien, and Langlais from 1930 to 1970 is to hear music which was influenced by the Neo-Classical sound.

The last overhaul of cleaning and tuning the organ was in 1980. There are plans for another overhaul in 2003 which will include rewiring the organ. The organ contains 61 stops, including cornets on both the Great and Swell.

Ms. Landale discussed Tournemire, his work and his legacy, and played two of the improvisations: Ave Maris Stella and Te Deum. These improvisations had been recorded at Sainte-Clotilde to wax discs in 1913. Duruflé transcribed the improvisations in the 1950s. Besides the two Tournemire improvisations, Ms. Landale played a piece by Petr Eben, who followed Tournemire's lead in the prodigious use of Gregorian chant.

Sainte-Clotilde

The entire group assembled at Sainte-Clotilde to hear Marie-Louise Langlais discuss the organ, to hear participants play, and to enjoy a demonstration and improvisation by Jacques Taddei, titular organist of Sainte-Clotilde and director of the Paris Conservatory. Mme. Langlais met the group outside to talk about the history of the church.

The parish was wealthy and Cavaillé-Coll was engaged to build the organ. The organ is 46 stops, small by Cavaillé-Coll standards. Franck served as organist here from 1859-1890. Pierne served from 1890-1898, Tournemire from 1898-1939, and Langlais from 1945- 1987. Mme. Langlais mentioned that she tried to get Langlais to retire in the mid-1980s, as he really was not able to climb the steps to the loft. He declared that he was determined to "stay one year longer than Tournemire," and he did.

Tournemire was a devotee of Baroque music, both German and Spanish. He tried to transform the Sainte-Clotilde organ to accommodate these styles. In 1933, he enlarged the Positiv by adding mutations and he also directed enlargement of the Swell. This changed the balance of the organ. More changes were made by Langlais in 1962. With Jacques Taddei and Marie-Louise Langlais as consultants, the organ is currently undergoing yet another restoration. The goal is to return it as much as possible to the original Cavaillé-Coll voicing and disposition while maintaining the tonal design for playing also the music of Tournemire and Langlais. The organ builder in charge is Bernard Dargassies, who also has worked at Saint-Augustin, La Madeleine, and Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. Restoration of the original wind pressure, addition of a second motor for the blower, and restoration of the stop action is in process. The organ, and especially the 8' foundation ensemble, sounds more powerful, while the reeds have remained unchanged. At this point, the organ is as close to the original Cavaillé-Coll since the restoration by Tournemire in 1933.

David Erwin played the Franck E Major Choral using exclusively the Franck stops including signature stops of great beauty: vox humana, Swell trompette and hautbois combined, and the solo harmonic flute. Mme. Langlais played part of the Seven Words of Christ by Tournemire, and Angela Kraft Cross played "La Nativité" from the Poèmes Évangéliques by Langlais.

Mme. Langlais introduced Jacques Taddei, who demonstrated the solo and ensemble stops of the organ: 1. Positiv and Grand Orgue flutes in a scherzo; 2. The Récit gamba and celestes with the beautiful Positiv clarinet (really a cromorne); 3. Grand Orgue trumpet with fonds of the Récit; 4. Positiv cromorne with cornet of the Grand Orgue; 5. Ensemble of fonds of the Grand Orgue and Positiv and fonds of the Swell including oboe; 6. Flutes of the Grand Orgue and Récit which have been restored as harmonic flutes; 7. Restored larigot and 1', added by Tournemire in 1913, are now more integrated into the organ. Taddei then improvised on two themes submitted by Mme. Langlais: a Breton folk song and the hymn "If thou but suffer God to guide thee."

For the July 8 Sunday Mass at Sainte-Clotilde, six seminar participants were invited by Mme. Langlais to present musical offerings during the service. Literature included: Improvisation on Ave Maris Stella (Tournemire), Louise Bass (Albuquerque, New Mexico); Grand Jeu (Corrette), John Walko; Choral Dorien (Alain), Jack Jones; "Mon âme cherche un fin paisable" (from Nine Pieces, Langlais), John Walko; "Communion" (from Suite Médiévale, Langlais), Kay McAfee; Variations on a theme of Janequin (Alain), Jill Hunt (Evanston, Illinois); "Final" (from Symphonie I, Vierne), Angela Kraft Cross.

Saint-Sulpice

At Saint-Sulpice, a massive Roman style church with rounded interior arches, tourists are dazzled by the huge paintings in its side-chapels, two of them by Delacroix. The imposing case of the Grand Orgue, designed by the 18th-century architect of the church, Monsieur Chalgrin, matches the enormity and weight of the interior. Organists at Saint-Sulpice have included Guillaume Nivers, Clérambault, Lefébure-Wély, Widor, Dupré, Grunenwald, and presently, Daniel Roth. Clicquot built the first instrument in 1781. That organ was of five manuals: Half-Récit, Half-Echo, Récit, Bombarde, Grand Orgue, and Positiv. In 1835, a proposed restoration by Callinet was begun but was abandoned; 60,000 francs and twenty years later, Cavaillé-Coll undertook the project. At the time there were three organs in the church, the Grand Orgue, a Choir organ, and a smaller instrument owned by the Dauphin. Cavaillé-Coll restored all of them, and the choir organ survives today. The grand orgue is of 102 stops, including the original Clicquot pipework which Cavaillé-Coll carefully preserved. At the completion of the work in 1862, the dedication featured César Franck, Camille Saint-Saëns, Alexandre Guilmant, and Gaylord Schmidt (the titulaire at the time). In 1863 Lefébure-Wély was appointed organist, and when he died six years later, Cavaillé-Coll recommended Widor as titulaire. Because of Widor's youth (26) and the observation that "he plays like a German," many letters of protest were written. However, Widor was named "provisional" organist and remained for 63 years. Further maintenance of the organ occurred in 1903 (Mutin, Cavaillé-Coll's successor) and in 1991 (Renaud).

Neither Widor nor his successor Dupré (1933-1971) allowed any major changes in the pipework at Saint-Sulpice through the Orgelbewegung and neo-classic movements of the 20th century. Widor supervised cleaning of the organ three times and in the 1920s an electric blower was added. Dupré had the organ cleaned and repaired in the 1950s. The unbroken tenure of over 100 years by these two organist-composers effected the presence of a largely unaltered example of Cavaillé-Coll's tonal design.

Notre Dame d'Auteuil

At Notre Dame d'Auteuil in a quiet, upscale neighborhood close to the southwest boundary of Paris, Frédéric Blanc, who was one of the last students of Marie-Madeleine Duruflé, introduced Mme. Duruflé's sister, Elaine Chevalier. She is a member of the parish and head of the new Duruflé Foundation. Blanc, a gifted musician, has been titular organist here for 21⁄2 years. The organ is very special because it is an unaltered 1885 Cavaillé-Coll. Widor and Dallier played the inauguration. Mutin restored the organ in 1912 and again in 1937-38 under the direction of Vierne and with approval from Duruflé and Dupré. An electrified console was added.

The organ was virtually ignored through the Neo-Classical movement and managed to remain untouched, primarily because the organist who preceded Blanc was there for fifty years, and the instrument remained "closed." It is of three manuals and 53 stops with both Récit and Positiv under expression.

Blanc then conducted a session concerning the tradition of improvisation practiced by French organists who study the art from the time they are young children. Improvisation is always a mix of composition and freedom. Control is necessary, with effective use of stop combinations: flutes and fonds, solo stops with celestes, and with a mixture of counterpoint and chordal harmonies. Blanc: "Start simply. Control the harmony according to theoretical principles. A chosen theme should have both melodic and rhythmic interest. In preluding for the service or providing meditation for communion, there should be a plan for the shape of the form." He talked about how ideas come quickly for the good improviser and that those ideas have to be molded quickly. The time spent practicing improvisation will result in the tools for being free with those ideas that come quickly.

Saint-Étienne-du-Mont

Across from the Pantheon and near the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens is located Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, the church where Maurice and Marie-Madeleine Duruflé served for over 50 years. There was an organ here first in 1633 to which François Clicquot contributed. Today only the magnificent case survives along with some of the original Clicquot pipes. Randy Runyon, French professor at Miami of Ohio University, introduced and translated for Vincent Warnier, the talented young winner of the Grand Prix International d'Orgue de Chartres in 1992, who assumed the post of titulaire here upon the death of Mme. Duruflé.

Warnier related the history of the organ, which evolved very differently than other Parisian instruments. In the 19th century, when the romantic and symphonic sound was valued, Cavaillé-Coll was asked to restore the organ, the work for which was completed in 1863. He added many Romantic voices--fonds, harmonic flute, an expressive Récit with voix celeste--and a Barker machine.

In 1930, at age 28, Duruflé was named titlular organist. He arrived to find the organ virtually unplayable, and with Vierne and Dupré, they envisioned a restoration. But WWII intervened. Duruflé had to play a choir organ of only 12 stops for 25 years. In 1955 the organ was finally restored. Duruflé had been Vierne's assistant at Notre-Dame and he very much wanted to recreate that organ here. The 48 ranks became 90, and the new electrified console was placed to the right of the instrument.

Because the original case was small, the pipes were spread out. Above the west entrance doors, pipes are visible with some placed on their sides. The Echo manual is completely to the side of the original case, and gives a sense of mystery to the tonal palette. This is not an historical restoration, but the dynamic range is enormous, with impressionistic colors and an impressive tutti. In 1989, Mme. Duruflé enlisted the Dargassies firm to restore the organ. At that time the console was further modernized, mixtures were revoiced, and fonds and an en chamade were added. Today the organ is an eclectic instrument.

La Madeleine

At La Madeleine, François Henri-Houbart, titular organist for the past 22 years, related the history of the colorful musicians and composers who have served this most civic and visible of Parisian churches. During Lefébure-Wély's era in the early 19th century, the church was considered "an annex of the Opéra Comique," because the music heard was often of the salon and theatrical varieties. When Houbart arrived, the organ was in a poor state of repair. Houbart oversaw a restoration of the windchests, the restoration of the wind pressure as prescribed by Cavaillé-Coll, and the modification of the newer stops so that they integrate well within the original pipework.

The organ (1845-46) is Cavaillé-Coll's second large instrument after Saint-Dénis and Notre-Dame-de-Lorette. This instrument, originally of 48 stops, represents the transition to the Romantic-symphonic ethos of Cavaillé-Coll. The fonds, reeds, and plein jeu provide a Classic foundation (after Dom Bédos). There is no cromorne or cornet. The Récit is the same as Sainte-Clotilde but without the voix celeste. The organ has a large quantity of flutes, especially harmonic flutes, representing Cavaillé-Coll's transition to the orchestral organ. Today the organ has 58 stops, with 46 from the original instrument.

The organ underwent a restoration in 1927 for which Widor played the dedicatory recital. The program included his Suite Latine, which was written for the occasion. The console was electrified in 1971. The heritage of organists include Fessy, Lefébure-Wély, Saint-Saëns, Dubois, Fauré, Dallier, and Demes-sieux. Fauré was first the choir organist and he assisted Saint-Saëns. When Fauré became titulaire, Nadia Bou-langer was his assistant. Clara Schumann, Franz Liszt, and Anton Rubenstein frequented the organ loft.

The choir organ was also built by Cavaillé-Coll. At first it had only one keyboard, but he added another to encompass 20 stops. It was restored in 1997. The bassoon, oboe, and clarion are original stops. Houbart's fine improvisation included demonstration of the Cavaillé-Coll stops, then of the newer stops, then all together. Houbart related that once every three years he plays an all-Lefébure-Wély Mass, which he would do that evening at 6 pm, Sunday at 11 am, and Sunday evening at 6 pm. For participants who wanted to attend, about ten people at a time could visit the organ loft. He mentioned that Lefébure-Wély  wrote a number of excellent anthems and choral music for the Mass, and that Saint-Saëns, who was a detractor, actually admired his improvisations.

Schola Cantorum

At the Schola Cantorum, Mme. Langlais told of the school and its Mutin organ (Mutin took over the firm after Cavaillé-Coll's death). Founded in 1896 by Charles Bordes, Alexandre Guilmant, and Vincent d'Indy, it was established for the study of the restoration of Gregorian chant after Solesmes and to re-introduce the Grand Orgue. The Schola was not as competitive as the Conservatory. A temple of "non-official" music, teachers included Guilmant, Vierne, the Duruflés, Grunenwald, Langlais, Satie, Martin˚u, and Turina. Students included Milhaud, Roussel, and Debussy.

One of Mme. Langlais's students, Verouchka Nikitine, played a fine recital which included Vierne, "Allegro et Cantilene" (Symphonie 3); Widor, "Allegro" (Symphonie 6); Langlais, "Communion" (Suite Médiévale); and Jean-Louis Florentz (b. 1947), two movements from Laudes. Participants enjoyed a light buffet supper prepared by Mme. Langlais and her daughter Caroline.

Participants chose among several churches to attend Sunday morning. The afternoon event was a recital at Notre-Dame-de-Paris which consisted of music of Mendelssohn and Bach. The church was full and pleasantly respectful as the recital proceeded. The organist experienced difficulty with registration changes, and it was somewhat disappointing to hear an all-German recital on this, the largest instrument in Paris. Playing time was allowed after the cathedral closed its doors to the public.

Saint-Étienne, Caen, Chartres

Participants boarded a bus for the 200 kilometer drive through the lovely countryside to Normandy and the city of Caen. Saint-Étienne houses a large Cavaillé-Coll instrument which is a-mong the three finest and largely unaltered organs of the builder. The others are at Saint-Sulpice and at Saint-Ouen in Rouen. Phillip Klais, president of the Klais firm of Bonn, Germany, introduced tonal director Heinz-Gunter Habbig. Habbig studied with the last voicer of the Cavaillé-Coll tradition, and he has made extensive studies of the organs at Saint-Ouen, Saint-Omer, Saint-Sulpice, and Saint-Sernin. Habek has directed several Cavaillé-Coll restorations, and his presentation of this instrument and discussion of the Cavaillé-Coll ethos was filled with reverence for the work of such a master craftsman.

The Abbey Church of Caen was a famous center of art education in the Middle Ages, but there is no record of an organ until the 15th century. In May of 1562, Protestants ransacked the church and ruined the organ. 200 years later, in 1737, the monks engaged a builder in Ouen and that organ's oak case, from 1741, its towers crowned with flower pots, remains today. On February 10, 1745, the organ was completed, a remarkable 18th-century specimen with five manuals and 61 stops. The first three manuals had a compass of 53 notes, a first in France, and the pedal was complete with a 16' and cornet.

The organ was endangered during the French revolution but suffered only neglect. In 1859 there was a restoration, and by 1877 more repairs were needed, and Cavaillé-Coll was asked to give an opinion. It was decided, with approval of Guilmant, that the old case and old façade pipes would be retained, with an addition of 8 stops. New wind chests and blower, new action, and new pipework were built in one year; the manual compass was increased to 56 notes. On March 3, 1885, Guilmant played the dedication recital. Repairs were needed in 1899 and the organ was given excellent care through to 1944. In January of 1975, the Secretary of Culture placed the instrument on the National Register of Historic Monuments. In 1998-99 there was another restoration.

Lynne Davis, a native of Michigan who has lived in France for 30 years, has for five years been Professor of the National Regional Conservatory at Caen. She studied with Marie-Claire Alain, Jean Langlais, and the Duruflés. Her studio of 20-25 students is privileged to practice and take lessons at Saint-Étienne and also to play the choir organ which is a Baroque instrument. After speaking of her immense affection for this great instrument, Ms. Davis played "Nef" and "Rosace" from Byzantine Sketches by Mulet, Cantabile by Franck, and Toccata by Vierne. Participants were then allowed generous playing time.

Part of the group continued on to Chartres to hear assistant organist Laurent Bois play and then all had the opportunity to play the great 1971 Danion-Gonzalez organ of 69 stops.

Participants returned to Paris and prepared to depart for Alsace for the second week of the French Organ Music Seminar.

(A report on the Alsace week will appear in a later issue of The Diapason.)

Oberlin’s Organ Tour de France

Simon Thomas Jacobs

Despite the best efforts of Winter Storm Hercules, all but one of our group of seventeen made it to Paris’s Charles de Gaulle Airport as scheduled on Friday, January 3. Once we had gathered our luggage, we headed off to our first point of interest: a cemetery . . . where else!?

The cemetery at Montparnasse is the final resting place of a number of notable figures from French history and culture. Among the graves we visited were those of Jean-Paul Sartre, Louis Vierne, César Franck, and the tombs of the Cavaillé-Coll, Saint-Saëns, and Guilmant families. Interestingly enough, while the map at the entrance to the cemetery (marking the burial locations of those considered worthy of listing) includes Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, César Franck, and Camille Saint-Saëns, Louis Vierne and Alexandre Guilmant were not listed. Fortunately, Professor James David Christie knew where they were and many a photograph was taken!

We then took the wonderful Train à Grande Vitesse (TGV)—France’s high-speed rail service—for a three-and-a-half-hour trip to Bordeaux where, after a glass (or two!) of wine, we rested in preparation for what would be a life-changing two weeks for all involved.

 

Bordeaux

The next morning, we rose early and made our way to the eleventh-century abbey of Sainte-Croix, home to the only remaining instrument of Dom Bedos, a monk and secretary of the abbey as well as a mathematician, clock builder, and author of the monumental treatise The Organ-Maker’s Art. We gathered in the large church as Professor Christie demonstrated the instrument with Louis Marchand’s Grand Dialogue in C. It was clear from the first few notes on the mighty reed chorus, the Grand Jeu, that this organ was to set the tone (no pun intended!) for our entire visit. It is impossible to describe just how powerful this instrument is—it must be heard to be believed. The entire space was filled with a raw brilliance supported by one of the finest acoustics I have ever experienced. Next we heard the instrument’s other “big” chorus—the Grand Plein Jeu—made up of foundations and mixtures. On this instrument the Grand Plein Jeu is built on a 32′ foundation and its 23 ranks of mixtures produce thrilling and rich sound.

The original instrument was constructed in 1748; during the nineteenth century it was moved to the cathedral in Bordeaux and tonally romanticized, while the organ’s case remained in the abbey church, now fitted with the former cathedral organ. Thankfully, the organ was saved in the second half of the twentieth century and restored and returned to the abbey church, with Dom Bedos’s aforementioned treatise acting as an incredibly detailed guide as to what should be done. As part of this restoration, the red paint that then covered the case was stripped, initially so that the case could be repainted. In the process, the instrument’s original green was revealed along with the beautiful stop labeling at the console. As a result, we have today one of the finest and most aurally and visually beautiful organs in all of Europe, if not the world.

After hearing the instrument in the church, we made our way up to the large organ gallery, walking through the enormous blower room (where, before electricity, the instrument required seven people to pump it!), eventually arriving at the exquisite five-manual console: Positif de dos; Grand-Orgue; Bombarde; Récit; Echo. The Positif de dos and Grand-Orgue contain the majority of stops. The Bomdarde contains only two large reed stops—this was for practical reasons concerning the winding of the instrument. Nevertheless, the Bombarde can be coupled down to the Grand-Orgue to create an astonishing Grand Jeu chorus built on the 16′ reed. This is neither common nor necessarily appropriate for a majority of the so-called French Classical repertoire, but used judiciously and in the right pieces, this registration creates one of the greatest sounds in all organ music.

Perhaps the most “alien” aspect of the French Classical organ is the Pédale division. Unlike its German or Dutch counterparts, the pedalboard and stops of a French Classical instrument are not designed for counterpoint, but to provide a bass part centered around an 8′ flute pitch (with occasional 16′ pitch added by use of manual couplers) or to play the cantus firmus on the 8′ Trompette, accompanied by the Plein Jeu of the manuals. In the case of the Sainte-Croix Dom Bedos, the Pédale division has both flue and reed stops at 16′ pitch as well, but this was by no means common. We all had some challenges negotiating the odd pedalboard at Sainte-Croix: not only was its design different from anything else we had ever encountered, its compass stretched down to F below the C where modern pedalboards stop. This meant that no note was where we thought it should be! That being said, the mighty 16′ Pédale Bombarde extended down to low A, allowing Bach’s French-inspired Pièce d’orgue, BWV 572, with the usually unplayable low B in the middle section, to be played on this instrument. As with everything on this organ, the sound of these low reed notes was something to experience!

We were incredibly fortunate to spend the entire day and much of the evening with this wonderful instrument and were soon to discover that the organ’s uncompromising mechanical action and the church’s glorious acoustic could teach us a great deal about how to play—certainly something that would be a recurring theme throughout the trip. I should also mention that the food and wine in Bordeaux were exquisite, and I could not help but think of Julia Child—it was easy to see why she fell in love with French cuisine!

The next morning, a number of the group attended Sunday Mass at Sainte-Croix. Titular organist Paul Goussot, a winner of the improvisation prize at St. Albans in 2011, and the winner of the Haarlem International Organ Improvisation Competition in 2012, improvised brilliantly during the Mass. 

Then we took the train to the city of Toulouse, in southwest France, near the Spanish border. Toulouse is, without a doubt, one of the great organ “capitals” of the world, and we had four days to explore some of its treasures.

 

Toulouse

Following a wonderful supper of bread, cheese, foie gras, and “king’s cakes” (in honor of the Epiphany) at the home of Michel Bouvard, as well as a private fortepiano performance by Madame Yasuko Bouvard, we made our way to the stunning Romanesque Basilica of Saint-Sernin, where Professor Bouvard is titulaire. The organ, built in 1889, was among the last instruments of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll and, for many of us, the first Cavaillé-Coll we had ever encountered “in the flesh.” Although based in Paris for most of his professional career, Aristide Cavaillé-Coll was originally from Toulouse and came from a family of organ builders. From the age of twenty, he worked with his father; this included restoring a number of instruments in Spain. The Spanish influence can be seen in a number of Cavaillé-Coll’s instruments that make use of en chamade reeds, and Saint-Sernin is no exception.

Saint-Sernin is a vast church with an incredibly long nave extending into a choir that certainly had an influence on Cavaillé-Coll’s concept for the organ. There is one word to describe the tutti of the Saint-Sernin Cavaillé-Coll: TERRIFYING! The huge wall of sound produced was definitely intended to travel from the organ gallery to the high altar, and it does so with ease. That being said, Professor Bouvard treated us to a spectacular performance of César Franck’s Grand Pièce Symphonique in which we also heard the more lyrical side of this outstanding organ.

Every evening during our time in Toulouse, we had unfettered access to the organ in Saint-Sernin, which, while very different from the Dom Bedos in Bordeaux, also had a great deal to teach. Much of the time was spent adjusting to the large space, Barker-lever action, and a very heavy swell shoe! As was the case with nearly all the organs we played, “inflicting one’s self” was not an option—you had to listen, feel, and respond to what the instrument and room were telling you in order to achieve the most satisfying musical results. It was also huge fun to “let rip” on full organ, although after 11 p.m. the tutti had to be used sparingly owing to its audibility throughout most of the surrounding area.

While the name of Cavaillé-Coll is well known among organists throughout the world, the name of Théodore Puget is perhaps not quite so well known. . . but it should be! We encountered two instruments by the Toulouse-based organ builder in his native city: Notre Dame du Taur—Puget’s first large instrument in the city, inaugurated by Guilmant in 1880; and Notre Dame de la Dalbade, inaugurated by Widor in 1888. We were all in awe of these exceptionally fine instruments placed in churches with glorious acoustics. In contrast to the fiery directness of the Cavaillé-Coll in Saint-Sernin that bellows “I’m here,” the two Puget instruments enveloped the listener with a far warmer sound. While perfect for the music of the great French Romantic composers, it was unfortunate that none of us had brought along any Howells or Whitlock, which would work equally well. Sadly, Puget never built a major instrument in Paris owing to Cavaillé-Coll’s monopoly in that city.

We also spent time at the church of Saint-Pierre des Chartreux, home to a four-manual French Classical instrument dating from 1683, with rebuilds in 1783 and 1983. While more modest in scale than the instrument at Sainte-Croix, it was perfectly suited to the ornate Baroque church and gave us another chance to work on our French-Classical pedaling!

On the evening of Wednesday, January 8, four students—Nicholas Capozzoli, Mitchell Miller, Alcee Chris, and I—performed a short concert at the Musée des Augustins. This former monastery, which was used to store horses during the French Revolution, became a museum in the nineteenth century and is home to a North-German influenced organ built in 1981 by Jürgen Ahrend. It was here that we probably encountered the largest acoustic of our entire visit—nine seconds, which would have been closer to twelve were it not for an exhibition at the back of the space.

This was followed by a visit and reception held at Toulouse les Orgues, headquarters for the annual organ festival that brings countless organ enthusiasts to visit the numerous musical masterpieces of this city. The festival staff, headed by Yves Rechsteiner, is housed in the former Church of the Gesu, a stunning Victorian Gothic edifice. The rear gallery of the nave houses a modest two-manual Cavaillé-Coll organ in absolutely original condition.

The next day we took the train to Albi, whose cathedral dedicated to St. Cecilia—claimed to be the largest brick building in the world—is home to one of the most impressive organ cases in Europe. At the neighboring (and considerably smaller) church of Saint-Salvy, parts of which date back to the eighth century, we heard the 1930 Maurice (grandson of Théodore) Puget organ. While containing some seventeenth-century pipework and being housed in the original case (which had once been in the cathedral) this was certainly a twentieth-century instrument in the French-Romantic style.

We then returned to Toulouse; a small group of us visited the church of Saint- Nicholas, home to an 1844 organ by Callinet. This was certainly one of the hidden gems of the trip—an instrument indebted to its French-Classical predecessors, but also looking forward to the larger romantic instruments that would follow it, particularly in its foundation and solo voices.

We then took the TGV to the city of Poitiers—the birthplace of Louis Vierne. We made our way to the beautiful cathedral, home to the 1791 François-Henri Clicquot organ—one of the crown jewels of all the organs in France. Compared with the “rustic” and almost bombastic Dom Bedos in Bordeaux, this instrument was incredibly refined, with a sweet, singing tone, even in the Grand Jeu. It was therefore not surprising to learn that this is the same Clicquot family who make the famous Veuve Clicquot champagne—everything about the instrument suggested elegance and class. Our gracious host was the cathedral organist, Olivier Houette. A couple of hours later we arrived in Paris, where we were to spend the remainder of our visit. 

The next morning we took a train to the small town of Houdan, about 40 miles west of Paris, to visit the church of Saint-Christophe Saint-Jacques and play the church’s Louis-Alexandre Clicquot (father of François-Henri) organ. This was certainly an unexpected highlight of the whole trip: the instrument has remained almost completely untouched since it was built in 1734, with some of the pipework dating from as far back as 1667, making it one of the most ancient instruments in France. Sadly, this is only one of a handful of such instruments in the Paris area that survived the French Revolution. The sound of the instrument was absolutely exquisite and it was a joy to play; the pitch (ca. A=390) and meantone temperament added additional spice and color. Its modest size also made it particularly suited to playing the works of earlier French Classical composers such as Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers, François Couperin, and Nicolas de Grigny (to name but a few), despite having been constructed relatively late in the period. The organ was demonstrated by its titulaire, Régis Allard. In addition to its delightful organ, Saint-Christophe Saint-Jacques also had the distinction of being the coldest church we had visited to date, making all that French ornamentation a little tricky!

On our return to Paris, we stopped in Versailles. After a private tour of the King’s and Queen’s Apartments and the Hall of Mirrors, our host and organist of the Royal Chapel at Versailles, Jean-Baptiste Robin, gave us a wonderful demonstration of the 1994 Bertrand Cattiaux organ, which is housed in the original and lavish 1709 case. Although a modern instrument, it is a faithful reconstruction of what would have reigned supreme in the early eighteenth century. Sadly, the original Robert Clicquot of 1711 was subjected to a number of changes over the centuries eventually being replaced by a Cavaillé-Coll which was, in turn, rebuilt by Gonzales. 

The chapel itself is a fascinating space, and it would be impossible to describe in words just how beautiful and ornate it is. For one, there are no “hard” edges—everything, including the organ case, is curved—quite a contrast to the more conservative cases in Houdan and Poitiers. Unusually, the organ is above the altar, but it is customary in French churches for the organ to be behind the congregation, and in the Royal Chapel, the congregation faced the King, who would be seated in a gallery at the back of the chapel, facing the altar and the organ. Jean-Baptiste also informed us that the Holy Trinity is very important to French Roman Catholics and drew our attention to a number of allusions to the Holy Trinity in the Royal Chapel. He went onto say that it is perhaps not coincidental that the French-inspired organ works of J. S. Bach, namely Pièce d’orgue, BWV 572, and the Prelude and Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552, can also be viewed in a Trinitarian light.

 

Paris

On our only Sunday in Paris, we were encouraged to attend Mass at one of the city’s many churches. While some opted to go to Notre Dame or Saint-Sulpice, a few of us went to the church of Saint-Gervais, perhaps most famous for its association with the Couperin family who served as organists of the church for almost 200 years. The church was full for this celebration of the Mass in French. One of the most pleasant surprises was the music: although the organ provided a number of interludes at certain points of the liturgy in a variety of styles, a majority of the service was sung without accompaniment. While the singing was led by a large chorus of nuns, it was wonderful to hear the congregation joining in enthusiastically. Perhaps the most unusual, yet incredibly effective and beautiful moment of the service was during the Eucharistic prayer, when the clergy around the altar started singing in three-part harmony, accompanied by slow moving chords hummed by the nuns. It was nice to be involved in a real French parish Mass and to see that, although very different to what the Couperins would have known, music still plays an important part in the life of the parish.

Later that afternoon we made our way to La Madeleine for an organ recital performed by Vincent Grappy. It was quite a welcome surprise to see the church almost full—several even likened the audience size to an AGO convention recital. This magnificent church is perhaps most famous for hosting the premiere of Fauré’s Requiem, and we even had a chance to briefly glance at the intact Cavaillé-Coll choir organ which was used at that performance. 

Following the recital, it was time to make our pilgrimage to perhaps one of the most famous and important (especially for organists) Parisian churches—Saint- Sulpice. We received a warm welcome from the present titulaire, Daniel Roth, one of a line of distinguished musicians who have held this important and coveted post. Both Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers and Louis-Nicolas Clérambault were organists there, although neither knew the present building that was commenced in the middle of the 17th century and finally completed 100 years later. The great five-manual, 64-stop organ by François-Henri Clicquot was dedicated in 1781. It was reported that Clicquot was so happy with the results that he danced for joy during the dedication, and the organ became very famous throughout Europe. The organ survived the French Revolution in 1789 thanks to a blind organ pumper who, wishing to save the instrument, cleverly stamped the official seal of the government on the door to the gallery, making it seem as though that part of the church had already been inspected and approved.

Mendelssohn visited the church in 1833, and it was clear that the organ was in desperate need of restoration, with the renowned composer likening its sound to a choir of old women! In 1835, the builder Callinet began a restoration project that took ten years; it was ultimately unsuccessful and left him bankrupt. In 1854, one of the priests at Saint-Sulpice, a great admirer and friend of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, declared that such a beautiful church needed two beautiful organs. And so it was that Cavaillé-Coll began work on the instrument in 1857. When it was completed five years later it was one of the three largest organs in the world. By retaining all of the Clicquot stops—which account for about 40 percent of the instrument—Cavaillé-Coll not only demonstrated his respect for the craft of his predecessors but also created an instrument that successfully melds old and new styles into a coherent whole.

If there was one thing we learned about Cavaillé-Coll, it was that he was a consummate artist whose concept was perfectly suited to the space for which it was intended. While he had very little to do with the actual building of his instruments, the concepts were his and he knew just whom to employ to get the results he wanted. This project was clearly very important to Cavaillé-Coll: following the aborted Callinet project that had cost the church a fortune, with nothing to show for it, Cavaillé-Coll’s initial proposal was for a four-manual, 74-stop instrument. Over time, the instrument grew larger with the addition of a fifth manual and 26 more stops—none of which had been contracted or paid for. It is no surprise that Cavaillé-Coll was often close to bankruptcy with many of his projects, but if he had not cared so much, we probably would not have some of the great instruments we have today.

After Saint-Sernin, we were all rather surprised at how elegant and soft-spoken the Saint-Sulpice Cavaillé-Coll was in comparison, even the tutti. The overall tone was darker and more rounded than Saint-Sernin, and this seemed totally in tune with the majestic building, creating a wash of sound that filled the room rather than launching a battery of sound directly to the other end of it. Another contributing factor to the sound is the enormous case, with its huge 32′ façade pipes and colossal statues, keeping the sound contained to a certain extent.

Finally, a lucky few had the opportunity to play the instrument, and it was such a privilege to be able to hear the sounds Widor and Dupré knew and worked with. I played Dupré’s exquisite Prelude and Fugue in F minor, op. 7, no. 2. I had been warned that after playing this piece at Saint-Sulpice it would be difficult to play it anywhere else, and after hearing the first few sixteenth notes of the Prelude, on the 8′ Gamba and 2′ Octavin of the distant Récit, I understood—the eerie sound combined with the building’s acoustic was like nothing I had ever encountered before.

The vast five-manual console required some getting used to; the Récit is the fourth manual—it used to be the fifth (!)—and therefore presented the more vertically challenged among us with quite an extensive reach. At one point, Monsieur Roth kindly held on to my shoulders to prevent me falling off the bench while both hands were playing on the Récit! He was also gracious enough to operate the hitch-down swell pedal which, being located to the far right of the console, would have required my left foot to be considerably busier than it wanted to be. Cavaillé-Coll used these until 1870, when he introduced the more convenient but certainly less expressive balanced swell pedal. 

Upon playing a wrong note, I apologized, but was told by Monsieur Roth, “Don’t worry, he [Dupré] is not here, but with Widor, we have to be far more careful . . .” Yes, Widor’s tomb is down in the crypt and we were taken down to pay homage, following our evening with Professor Roth.

The next morning we made our way to the church of Saint-Louis-en-l’Ile to hear and play the church’s Bernard Aubertin organ, in North-German Baroque style. This is one of the finest of its kind in Paris and somewhat of a rarity. It was a welcome palate cleanser at this point of the trip to hear the sound of baroque-inspired principals and a particularly beautiful double-flute stop.

Having never been inside Notre Dame, a number of us stopped in briefly to gaze in awe at the gorgeous stained glass of one of the most famous buildings in the world. Unfortunately, the main organ was then undergoing restoration work and was unplayable. We then headed up to La Trinité, the church of Guilmant and, more recently, Olivier Messiaen.

This was somewhat of a pilgrimage for me personally, being particularly devoted to the music of Messiaen, and upon arrival at the church, I was greeted with a deeply moving vision: it had been raining, but as I approached the church, the sun came out, and a perfect rainbow appeared over the church—it could not have been more appropriate with Messiaen’s love of nature and the importance of color in his music.

The organ’s curator, Olivier Glandaz, was our host and had been a close friend of Messiaen. The organ has been well cared for and is in excellent condition. It was incredibly special to be able to hear Messiaen’s music on his organ, the combination of instrument and room creating what I can only describe as a glorious “shimmer.”

Day 12 was spent in the old French town of Rouen, perhaps most famous for being the place of Joan of Arc’s martyrdom. It is also home to Cavaillé-Coll’s last organ—the mighty four-manual instrument in the former Abbey Church of Saint-Ouen, which knocked the church in Houdan to second place as the coldest building of the entire trip! While in need of thorough restoration, it was wonderful to hear (and play) this “Grand Old Lady,” and yes, that 32′ reed really is as earth shattering as it sounds on recordings! Our hosts were the titular organist Marie-Andrée Morisset-Balier and her husband, trumpet virtuoso Michel Morisset.

Upon our return to Paris, we visited the van der Heuvel organ at Saint-Eustache, beautifully demonstrated for us by Vincent Crosnier, Jean Guillou’s assistant. 

Our penultimate day in France began at the Paris Regional Conservatory where those students who didn’t perform in Toulouse played a concert on the school’s Grenzing organ—the same instrument used for the preliminary rounds of the Chartres International Organ Competition. The performers were Richard Gray, Rees Roberts, Abraham Ross, Jillian Gardner, Albert Bellefeuille, Matthew Buller, Donald VerKuilen, and Jay Yau. Following the concert, Sylvie Mallet, the current professor of organ, and Marie-Louise Langlais, professor emerita of organ, were our hosts and joined us for lunch at a small restaurant that was once frequented by the likes of Debussy, Ravel, and Poulenc.

That afternoon, we visited the church of Saint-Roch where Claude-Bénigne Balbastre, Louis James Alfred Lefébure-Wely, and Pierre Cochereau are among its most notable titulaires. The instrument, built by Cavaillé-Coll but retaining all the reeds from the previous Clicquot organ, is equally suited to French Classical music as it is to French Romantic music. The magnificent oak case also dates from the original Clicquot organ and contained the only clock we had seen which actually worked! While the music of Lefébure-Wely may not be all that sophisticated, hearing it on this thrilling instrument, in the highly-ornate Baroque church only a short walk from the Paris Opera certainly helped to put the music in context. Our host was the present titulaire, Françoise Levéchin-Gangloff.

The Cathedral Basilica of Saint-Denis was our final stop for the day. This former Benedictine Abbey—the first gothic building in the world—was incredibly powerful in its day and is particularly famous for being the final resting place of the French Kings. This association with French royalty, however, meant that it suffered greatly during the Revolution. One of the most damaging occurrences was the removal of the abbey’s roof (almost certainly so it could be melted down and made into other things), leaving the large and fine eighteenth-century organ open to the elements for twenty years. This organ was eventually removed in the hope that it would be restored one day, but it ended up being poorly stored and was entirely lost. It is quite likely that much of the instrument still exists in pieces throughout the organs of Paris, but we shall never know for certain.

In 1833, the French State decided to have a new organ built for this important church, and the 22-year-old Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, who had just moved from Toulouse to Paris (at the suggestion of Rossini), submitted a proposal that won the contract. The organ was eventually completed in 1841, having been delayed due to the lack of an organ case, which was the responsibility of the church’s architect. The delay, however, worked in Cavaillé-Coll’s favor because it was during this time that he met Charles Barker. Owing to the size of the instrument, the mechanical action was incredibly stiff and heavy, but the new “machine” of Charles Barker changed all this.

The Saint-Denis Cavaillé-Coll, while by no means perfect, was revolutionary in organ building and was the prototype for everything that followed, especially in Cavaillé-Coll’s own work. Not only was it the first instrument to make use of the new Barker machine, it also had the first harmonic flute and trumpet stops. That being said, Cavaillé-Coll never cited the instrument as one of which he was particularly proud.

Pierre Pincemaille has been titulaire at Saint-Denis since 1987 and is one of the greatest improvisers in the world, having studied with the legendary Pierre Cochereau. He improvised for us on the hymn tune Down Ampney, enabling us to hear the many colors of this important instrument.

Our final day in Paris began at Saint-Gervais, where everyone had the opportunity to see and play the 1768 François-Henri Clicquot organ, which retains much pipework from the c. 1680 organ of François Thierry. Here again, while several of us had the opportunity to listen to the organ during Sunday liturgy, now we all had the unique opportunity to experience the masterpiece firsthand.

That afternoon, we reconvened at the Basilica of Sainte-Clotilde—set back almost out of sight except for its two spires, which can be glimpsed on the Paris skyline. A number of great organists have been associated with this famous church: César Franck, Charles Tournemire, and Jean Langlais. Sadly, very little of the organ Franck knew remains, the instrument having been electrified and, beginning with Tournemire, altered tonally to embrace the aesthetics of the new neo-classical movement. Nevertheless, it was interesting to hear the music of Tournemire and Langlais on the instrument for which it was conceived. The original Franck console is now in a museum in Belgium, having been bequeathed by Tournemire to his friend, Flor Peeters. The organ was rebuilt in 1999–2005 by former titulaire, the late Jacques Taddei, with the addition of two new consoles, a 32′ Contra Bombarde, and a Trompette-en-chamade, placed on the floor of the second gallery at the location of the old console.

And so, as our two weeks drew to a close, we arrived at the final church of our visit, Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, where Monsieur and Madame Maurice Duruflé had spent many years working and living in a small apartment just across the street. It felt especially humbling to be so “close” to these two towering figures in the world of organ music, and while we all have our favorites, I’m not sure I can think of anyone who doesn’t adore the music of Monsieur and the playing of Madame.

The church itself is very elegant—not unlike Duruflé’s music—and is home to the only rood screen (a beautiful, stone structure) and the oldest organ case in Paris, dating from 1633. Duruflé was also influenced by the neo-classical movement and this can be heard in the clear and bright sound of the instrument, making it especially good for counterpoint. After a stunning improvisation by Thierry Escaich on “Happy Birthday” (performed in honor of Donald VerKuilen’s 19th birthday), Alcee Chris performed Duruflé’s Toccata from Suite, op. 5, and Nicholas Capozzoli performed Escaich’s Évocation II for the composer.

I shall confess that writing this report has been incredibly difficult. It is almost impossible to express in words all that we experienced and learned on this amazing trip. One could easily write an entire article on just one of these churches and its rich musical and cultural heritage—we visited 31 organs in 13 days! Nevertheless, it is my hope that this overview will inspire further research—the Internet has a wealth of information and recordings of almost all the instruments we visited—and if you are able, go to France to see these masterpieces for yourself. We could not have been more warmly welcomed and it was clear that all those whom we met were very proud of their history and delighted to share it with others. Just be prepared to do LOTS of walking!