Ninth International Organ and Early Music Festival --Oaxaca, Mexico, February 15–20, 2012

Restoration of the organ in San Matías Jalatlaco, February 18–24, 2016

Cicely Winter grew up in Michigan and studied piano and harpsichord at Smith College and the University of Michigan, where she obtained a B.A. in music and an M.A. in European history; she later studied piano performance at Indiana University. Her principal teachers were Fritz Steinegger and Leonard Hokanson (piano), and Lory Wallfisch and Elisabeth Wright (harpsichord). Winter has lived in Oaxaca since 1972 and has presented numerous piano, harpsichord, and organ concerts over the years, many of which have benefitted community service projects in Oaxaca. In 2000, with the support of philanthropist Alfredo Harp Helú, she and organist Edward Pepe co-founded the Instituto de Órganos Históricos de Oaxaca A.C. (IOHIO), for which she serves as its director. Her professional performances have increasingly focused on historic organs, presenting a broad repertoire of classical, sacred, and folkloric music.

Each festival of the Instituto de Órganos Históricos de Oaxaca (IOHIO) builds on the success of its predecessors, making this one of the best ever! Nearly 100 people from seven countries and six Mexican states participated in all or part of the scheduled activities. Twenty-eight had participated in at least one previous festival and apparently couldn’t resist returning. Twenty Oaxacan, Mexican, and foreign musicians collaborated in eight concerts on seven restored organs over the course of five days. Six Mexican organ students were offered scholarships to come to the festival, and our own nine local organists and students, three of whom played in collective concerts, were delighted to be their guides. Hundreds of people went to the concerts and heard the Oaxacan organs in all their glory.

In just a few days, we fulfilled all our stated goals: 

• Promotion of the restored organs through the festival concerts;

• Conservation of the unrestored organs through visits to organs in the regions of the Zapotec Central Valleys and the Mixteca Alta;

• Musical and technical training through the participation of local organists in festival concerts and of an Oaxacan in the Jalatlaco restoration project;

• Archival research through the exhibit of documents;

• Organ restoration through the work in process in San Matías Jalatlaco. 

High spirits and a sense of camaraderie prevailed, new friendships, professional collaborations, and even a romance (!) were forged, and this time the festival group began to feel more than ever like a family.

Thursday, February 18

The festival began with the inauguration in the Oaxaca Philatelic Museum (MUFI). Cicely Winter, director of IOHIO, spoke about the activities and goals of the festival. María Isabel Grañen Porrúa, president of the Fundación Alfredo Harp Helú Oaxaca (FAHHO), and Padre Salvador Cruz Sánchez from Santa María Tlacolula, offered congratulations from their respective institutions. Winter expressed special appreciation to Alfredo Harp Helú for his indispensable support of seven organ restoration projects in Oaxaca over the past twenty years, as well as the restoration of the two monumental organs in the Mexico City Cathedral. There is no parallel anywhere in the world of a philanthropist who has demonstrated such a particular interest in the historic organs, and none of the IOHIO activities since 2000, including the inauguration of this festival, would have been possible without Don Alfredo’s support. 

After a welcoming reception, everyone proceeded to the Oaxaca Cathedral for the first concert of the festival, offered by Liuwe Tamminga (Netherlands), organ, and Bruce Dickey (USA), cornetto (http://iohio.org.mx/eng/cathedralconcertXIfest.htm). Both are residents in Bologna and had been encouraged to participate in the festival by our mutual friend Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini. A long line wound out into the atrium to purchase tickets (this was the only concert with an admission fee), and attendance surpassed 350 people. It was thrilling to hear the cornetto, an instrument popular in the Renaissance that had fallen into disuse until its revival in recent decades, largely due to Bruce Dickey’s promotion and teaching. Its haunting resonance intertwined with the organ to sound like one instrument, and Liuwe Tamminga’s solos were brilliant. 

This and all succeeding concerts were projected onto a screen in the church so that the audience could have a better view of the artists and understand the relation of pulling the stops and the changing in the organ’s sound. This monumental 8′ instrument was built in 1712 and retains its opulently carved and gilded upper case, although its lower case has been rebuilt several times. Unfortunately no evidence remains of its original appearance. However, we know from the contract for its construction that it was once one of the most lavishly decorated organs in Oaxaca.

Friday, February 19

The day started with a bilingual presentation by Cicely Winter in the Francisco de Burgoa Library within the Santo Domingo Cultural Center on “The Historic Organs of Oaxaca and the Work of the IOHIO.” Although the title of the talk has not changed over the years, the content always does, and the images of the organs and the various IOHIO projects—protection, conservation, restoration, concerts, archive discoveries, recordings, and publications—spoke for themselves.

Our festivals are enriched by an exhibit of documents from local archives. This year the theme was “Pedro Nibra and Oaxacan Organbuilding in the Mid-nineteenth Century” to highlight the restoration in process of the organ in San Matías Jalatlaco. María Isabel Grañen Porrúa, director of the Burgoa Library, is passionately interested in the preservation of historic documents and created the project ADABI (“Apoyo al Desarrollo de Archivos y Bibliotecas de México”) to refurbish archives and catalog documents. After she inaugurated the event, curator Ricardo Rodys described the material, including payments to Nibra and records of later interventions in the Jalatlaco organ, as well as construction contracts for other Oaxacan organs (which are like gold for us).

We proceeded to San Matías Jalatlaco, located on the edge of the historic center of Oaxaca City. We have always scheduled a visit to this organ during our festivals and discussed our hopes for its restoration, but this time it was actually happening! This elegantly proportioned 8′ organ was built in 1866 by the Oaxacan organbuilder Pedro Nibra, then modified and painted its distinguishing blue color around 1880. First we all assembled in the parish conference room for a presentation by restorers Eric González and Alberto Compiani about the recently finished restoration of the organ case, phase I of the project. We then divided the group in half, which alternated between the choir loft to view the case up close and a temporary shop space to observe the windchest, keyboard, and pipes (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/restjalatlaco.htm).

We proceeded to San Andrés Huayapam located on the outskirts of Oaxaca City, where we were received with a drink of tejate, traditionally served in colorful painted half gourds. A local specialty of prehispanic origin, this delicious foamy drink is made with ground cacao, corn meal, the seed of the mamey fruit, and the flower of a tree (rosita de cacao) that grows only in and near Huayapam. 

This charming church has one of the most beautiful altarpieces in Oaxaca, whose intricately carved columns are referred to as “gilded lace.” Also famous is the collection of antique exvotos, petitions usually to the Virgin Mary that are painted on small tin plaques. This and succeeding visits were enhanced by commentaries about the church art by restorer Alberto Compiani. 

The 4′ organ (1772), large for a table organ, is nearly intact with its original keyboard and pipes. It is simply carved, a style we refer to as a “country organ,” and was once painted bright red, but overpainted a more sober maroon color in the 20th century. In Huayapam we savored the first of many local meals, this time mole amarillo, in the atrium of the church.

During the free time between the Huayapam comida and the evening concert, visiting organists had a chance to play in the Oaxaca Cathedral. This and succeeding opportunities to play the organs were organized by Joel Vasquez, our coordinator of musical activities and liaison with the churches. 

Soon afterward, organist Cicely Winter and percussionist Valentín Hernández presented the second concert of the festival, featuring well-known regional folk songs and dances (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/soledadconcertXIfest.htm). Originally programmed in the Basilica de la Soledad, which would have added an eighth organ to the roster, the concert was cancelled just days before the festival, creating a moment of panic, but fortunately it was rescheduled in the cathedral. Such are the inevitable curveballs we face every year, and no matter how much we try to anticipate every eventuality in our planning, there are always surprises. The church was once again packed, people sang along lustily, and we consider this program a success only if the audience is screaming at the end!

Saturday, February 20 

Our excursion to the Mixteca Alta began with the third concert of the festival in Santa María de la Natividad Tamazulapan and featured Oaxacan organists Tonatiuh González and Jesús González and three doctoral level organ students of Robert Bates (University of Houston, Texas): Jeffrey Cooper, Michael Ging, and Christopher Holman. This was the first of three collective concerts, an experiment a few festivals back that has proved to be one of our most successful innovations. It gives foreign organists the chance to play and always guarantees a varied and interesting program (http://iohio.org.mx/eng/tamaconcertXIFest.htm). The 2′ table organ dating from approximately 1720–30 is situated in a high balcony overlooking the huge nave of the church and is exquisitely decorated with images of saints and angel musicians. The case and bellows are original, but the pipes, keyboard, and interior components were reconstructed in 1996. The church has one of the most magnificent baroque altarpieces in all Mexico and includes paintings by the renowned 16th-century Spanish painter Andrés de Concha.

The second organ in this church, an imposing 8′ instrument, faces the small organ from the left balcony. Built in Oaxaca in 1840 by a member of the renowned Martinez Bonavides organbuilding family, it was once a magnificent instrument and is largely intact except that only the five largest façade pipes remain. The Tamazulapan church is one of only three in Oaxaca with two organs and the only one where two very different organs may be seen at the same time.

After the visit to Tamazulapan and before arriving in Yanhuitlán, both grandiose Dominican centers, we visited the church in Santiago Teotongo of more modest dimensions but equally rich in 18th-century baroque art. The magnificent case of this 8′ organ, though empty, stands as a work of art in its own right, and statues of angels once stood atop its towers, singing through their O-shaped mouths via pipes which passed through their bodies. The organ was stripped of its pipes, keyboard, and more during the Mexican Revolution. Its date is unknown, but the organ’s profile closely resembles that of San Mateo Yucucuí (1743).

The fourth concert of the festival took place in Santo Domingo Yanhuitlán, the 16th-century Dominican stronghold in the Mixteca Alta region. With its soaring stone vault supported by lateral flying buttresses and its magnificent altarpieces, it is one of Mexico’s most majestic complexes of baroque art. Organist Víctor Contreras and trumpeter Juan Luis González, both from near Mexico City, thrilled the audience with a program that reverberated throughout the immense nave (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/YanhuitlanconcertXIfestival.htm). This magnificent organ, located on a side balcony, was built around 1690–1700 and restored in France in 1998. Its case is one of the most elaborately decorated in all of Mexico with fantastic swirling imagery and Dominican symbols painted on the case and fierce faces on the façade pipes.

We continued on to San Andrés Zautla and were received in the atrium of the church by the elderly women of the town, dressed in their traditional skirts and blouses, the local children’s band, fireworks, plenty of mezcal, necklaces of bugambilia, dancing, and finally, a delicious meal of estofado de pollo (chicken stewed in almond sauce) served on the patio behind the church. 

After dinner, we crowded into the lovely church where many local people were already waiting for the fifth concert of the festival to begin. Organists Margarita Ricárdez (Oaxaca), Víctor Contreras and Víctor Manuel Morales (Mexico City), and Robert Bates (United States) once again played wonderfully contrasting pieces, and there was a pleasant improvisatory tone to this presentation at the end of such a busy day (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/zautlaconcertXIfestival.htm). 

Alberto Revilla (Mexico City/Oaxaca) presented Renaissance music for theorbo and flamenco guitar music in alternation with the organ, leaving the audience stunned by his artistry. The case of this 4′ table organ (1726) is exquisitely gilded and painted with images of saints and archangels. Like the organ in Tamazulapan, the bellows here are still hand pumped and the register sliders located on the sides of the case, so a concert may involve up to six people: the organist and page turner, someone on either side to control the registers, and one or two people pumping the bellows. Thanks to the ongoing support of the Federal Road and Bridge Commission (CAPUFE), a special entrance was opened from the super highway, allowing us direct access back to Oaxaca. 

Sunday, February 21

American organist Craig Cramer presented the sixth concert of the festival in San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya. Organbuilders Joaquín Lois and Hal Gober helped tune and condition the organ, and it had never sounded so good. The church is one of the loveliest in Mexico with its exuberant interior, floral decoration, and gorgeous baroque altarpieces, all recently restored. The 4′ organ was built sometime before 1735 and restored in 1991. The case and pipes are decorated with floral motifs, and the organ harmonizes beautifully, both visually and acoustically, with the architecture of the church.

We savored a variety of Oaxacan specialties in the “Donají” Restaurant in Mitla, then proceeded to the nearby town of Santiago Matatlán. We always try to include a “new” organ in our tours and the Matatlán organ was irresistible because it is such an oddity: a large 4′ stationary organ with its windchest under the keyboard as in a smaller table organ, register pulls on the façade rather than on the sides, and a disproportionately large case with five towers, now empty, for a simple mechanism. The 18th-century church includes Baroque altarpieces, and its interior, like many in Oaxaca, was stenciled a vivid blue in the 19th century. 

Our friends from “Chocolate Mayordomo” received us with bread and chocolate upon arrival in Santa María de la Asunción Tlacolula. Those who needed a break from churches could roam around one of the most famous indigenous markets in Oaxaca and admire the women’s costumes and the stalls piled high with local produce. 

We were once again privileged to hear the rare and arresting combination of cornetto and organ in the seventh concert of the festival presented by Liuwe Tamminga and Bruce Dickey (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/TlacolulaconcertXIfest.htm). This time the cornetto accompanied an organ with a gentler and more vocal character than the more extroverted Cathedral instrument. The 8′ organ was built in Oaxaca in 1792 by Manuel Neri y Carmona, restored by Gerhard Grenzing, and inaugurated during the Tenth IOHIO Festival in 2014. This organ also has the most elaborately painted façade pipes in all of Mexico, restored by Oaxacan Eric González. After the concert, visiting organists scurried up to the choir loft to have a go at the organ before the Mass and our departure for Oaxaca. 

Monday, February 22 

Our second all-day excursion to the Mixteca Alta was directed toward Tlaxiaco, three hours distant from Oaxaca City, with visits to organs along the way. Our first stop was at the little stone church in Santa María Tinú, which houses a disproportionately large organ. The date of construction 1828 and name of organbuilder are written inside the case—such luck! Perhaps the organ was originally commissioned for a larger church, then sold to Tinú, or the community simply wanted something grand. The organ, completely intact and played just a generation ago, still grunts and wheezes when one of the bellows located in the loft above is pumped. Some organs inspire affection, and this is definitely one of them. Unfortunately, there are only 136 people left in the town so a restoration would not be practical. It should be noted that Mexican law protecting the national heritage prohibits the removal of sacred art objects from their churches of origin. 

Some years had passed since we last visited San Andrés Sinaxtla in our festival tour, so it was of particular interest to many regular participants to see it for the first time. This instrument is neo-classic in design, with a richly carved unpainted case. Of particular interest is the inscription across the façade including the name of the donor, the date of construction (1791), and the cost, but typically omitting the name of the organbuilder. It presents an interesting contrast to the Tlacolula organ, built in the same year in Baroque style, the late 18th century representing the transition from the Baroque to the neo-classic aesthetic. 

Just down the road from Sinaxtla sitting on a promontory overlooking the Yanhuitlán Valley is the church of San Mateo Yucucuí (population 130). This organ built in 1743 is the least altered of all the 8′ 18th-century Oaxacan organs, and when last played (1930s?), it is said that its sound could be heard for miles around. The organ was never painted or gilded like its counterpart in Teotongo, probably not by choice during that opulent Baroque era, but rather because of the cost. It is richly carved and largely intact, and one only wishes that the pipes and mechanism of the Yucucuí organ could be inserted into the stunning Teotongo case to make one amazing organ! The floor of the high balcony on which the organ sits is much deteriorated, and access to the façade is dangerous, so our efforts to clean and document the organ have been restricted.

Our next stop was at the Dominican architectural complex of San Pedro y San Pablo Teposcolula with its famous 16th-century open chapel and 18th-century church. The 8′ organ (ca. 1730–40) has a similar profile to that of Yanhuitlán. Its original finish was natural wood, then it was later painted white with green touches, a lovely look. Now we refer to it as the King Midas organ, because in 2010 a well-connected architect took the liberty of gilding at great cost all the decorative carvings and moldings, even though it had only been minimally gilded historically and, in fact, the organ’s overall manufacture is not of the highest quality. Our main conservation challenges over the years have been related to negligence of the organs (accumulated filth, vandalism, the intrusion of animals) or the consequences of natural disasters or construction projects. We never imagined that the whimsical decisions of misguided “experts” would pose an equal risk.

After lunch in Teposcolula, we drove up through the pine forest to Santa María Tlaxiaco. For the final, eighth concert of the festival (see http://iohio.org.mx/eng/TlaxiacoconcertXIfest.htm), William Autry, David Furniss, Marilou Kratzenstein, Craig Cramer, and Liuwe Tamminga offered an eclectic program with some American and French pieces added to the more standard Spanish and Italian repertoire. This monumental 8′ instrument, built around 1800 and restored in 2000, is the “youngest” of all the restored Oaxacan instruments. The imposing, outwardly austere church was the Dominican outpost for this strategic area of the high sierra in the 16th century. All the altarpieces in the church and the organ are synchronized in neo-classic design and painted white, gold, and red, creating a pleasing visual coherence, although we know that there was a Baroque predecessor organ and altarpieces in the 17th century. We spent the night in the Hotel del Portal right on the main plaza.

Tuesday, February 23

After a luscious buffet breakfast, participants divided into two groups. Many chose to visit the late pre-classic and classic (400 BC–800 AD) Mixtec archeological site and the community museum of San Martín Huamelulpan with Marcus Winter of the Instituto Nacional de Antropolgia e Historia (INAH). The others, including most of the students, opted to stay behind to play the Tlaxiaco organ and had great fun trying out their pieces, laughing, commenting, and helping each other with the registers. 

Both groups met up in the village of San Pedro Mártir Yucuxaco. The organ here (1740) is complete and in excellent condition, missing only its bellows. It is the least altered of the Oaxacan 4′ table organs, parallel to Yucucui for the 8′ stationary group and closely resembles the organ in Zautla, though without the painted decoration. The carved pipeshades include two faces in profile, a unique decorative detail, and the keyboard is exquisite. 

Our Mixtec tour continued with a visit to the church and organ of Santiago Tejupan. The luxuriously painted organ case (1776) is the last in Oaxaca with religious imagery. Portraits of the donor and his wife being blessed by his patron saint are depicted on one side and Santiago on horseback on the other, both unfortunately obscured by layers of grime. Another special feature is the information painted on two decorative medallions on the façade, which include the name of the donor, the cost of the organ, and the date of construction, although as in Sinaxtla, omitting the name of the organ builder. Here we find yet another church that could stand as a museum of colonial religious art in this culturally rich area of the Mixteca Alta.

Our final church and organ visit was in Santa María Tiltepec, for some the crowning visual experience of the field trips. Located in the Dominican sphere of Yanhuitlan and built atop a prehispanic temple, this 16th-century church has long been appreciated by art historians for its richly carved asymmetrical façade and stone interior arches. The unrestored 4′ organ, situated on a side balcony, is one of Oaxaca’s oldest (1703) and often elicits a gasp of astonishment when seen for the first time. Unfortunately nothing is known about its history that would explain its idiosyncrasies of construction and decoration, and if it didn’t have hips, we might wonder if it were imported.

We then walked down the hill and across the river to the home of the Cruz García family for our farewell dinner. We feasted on barbacoa de borrego, lamb barbecued Oaxacan style, cooked in the ground over hot rocks and covered with maguey leaves. Mezcal from San Bartolo Yautepec flowed freely, and everyone had one last chance to celebrate with old and new friends before returning to Oaxaca.

Wednesday, February 24 

Even after the closing event in Tiltepec, this festival just would not stop, and the following day 25 people made the trek up to the archeological site of Monte Albán with Marcus Winter (INAH).

Conclusion

Several participants have mentioned that our festivals have been life-changing experiences, and we know what they mean. The organs have opened up undreamed-of opportunities for us in the IOHIO as well, and led us to new places, people, and insights. We cannot forget the thrill of hearing the first chord of a restored organ in concert or climbing up a winding stone staircase to the choir loft and confronting an organ for the first time. These large, heavy instruments are rooted in their churches and were once—and in some cases are now—vital parts of the musical life and culture of their communities. Each organ has a story to tell, and we try to listen carefully, because ultimately, it is these stories that structure our festivals and make them unique.

Over one hundred people from six foreign countries and six different states of Mexico gathered in Oaxaca during February to revel in the tenth organ celebration of the Instituto de Órganos Históricos de Oaxaca (IOHIO). The festival activities extended over six and a half days and included concerts on eight restored Oaxacan organs; visits to twelve unrestored organs with explanations of their churches’ art and history; guided tours of the archaeological sites of San Martin Huamelulpan and Santa María Atzompa; the presentation of a series of postage stamps depicting Oaxacan organs; “Oaxacan Organs and their Builders,” an exhibit of manuscripts from local archives; the opportunity for organists to play several Oaxacan organs; a Mass and concert to bless and inaugurate the recently restored organ in Santa María de la Asunción Tlacolula; delicious local cuisine, band music, and dancing in several communities.

Fortunately, the theme of historic pipe organs is increasingly familiar in those towns that still have instruments, and slowly but surely the idea of an organ, its sound, and its conservation has begun to penetrate public awareness. We were consistently received by the authorities with respect and often ceremony, the choir lofts and churches had been cleaned beforehand, and the local people were most appreciative of our attention to this previously unknown part of their cultural heritage.

Thursday, February 20  

The festival’s inauguration began in the Oaxaca Philatelic Museum (MUFI). Cicely Winter, director of the IOHIO, spoke about the activities and goals of the festival and was followed by María Isabel Grañen Porrúa, president of the Fundación Alfredo Harp Helú Oaxaca, Sergio Bautista Orzuna, director of the Oaxaca Regional Center of the Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia (INAH), and Emilio de Leo, in representation of the Secretaría de Cultura y las Artes of the Oaxaca state government. They offered words of congratulations and the support of their respective institutions.

The IOHIO office has always been housed in the MUFI, and, during this festival, our two institutions were able to present a tangible product of our 14-year collaboration: a series of postage stamps depicting six Oaxacan organs and a special postal cancellation in honor of the tenth festival.

After a welcoming reception, everyone proceeded to the Oaxaca Cathedral for the first concert of the festival, offered by renowned Spanish organist Roberto Fresco, titular organist of the Almudena Cathedral in Madrid. A long line wound out into the atrium to purchase tickets and attendance surpassed 350 people. Fresco’s elegant performance transfixed the audience and it was certainly one of the most beautiful concerts ever heard on this organ.

Because of the position of the organ in the choir loft, the organist’s back is to the audience, so this and all succeeding concerts were projected onto a screen in the church. In this way the audience could appreciate the changing of registers and watch Roberto’s hands as he played.

This monumental 8′ organ was built in 1712 and retains its opulently carved and gilded upper case, but its lower case has been rebuilt several times and there is no evidence of its original appearance. However, one can assume that it was once one of the most lavishly decorated organs in Oaxaca, based on the contract for its construction.

Friday, February 21

The day started with “The Historic Organs of Oaxaca and the Work of the IOHIO,” a bilingual presentation by Cicely Winter in the Francisco de Burgoa Library within the Santo Domingo Cultural Center. Although the title of the talk has not changed over the years, the content always does, and the images of the organs and the various IOHIO projects—protection, conservation, restoration, presentation of concerts, discoveries related to the organs, recordings, and publications—spoke for themselves.

This was followed by an exhibit of documents, “Los Órganos Oaxaqueños y sus Artífices” (“The Oaxacan Organs and Their Builders”), inaugurated by María Isabel Grañen Porrúa, director of the library, and explained by the curator, former IOHIO collaborator Ricardo Rodys, as well as the presentation of a book with the same title edited by Rodys and Lérida Moya Marcos. The theme was chosen to honor the recent restoration of the Tlacolula organ and featured organ contracts and references to builders from local archives.

We then climbed into the vans that would become so familiar to us during the days ahead for the field trip to visit three unrestored organs in the Tlacolula Valley. The first stop was in San Matías Jalatlaco, located on the edge of the historic center of Oaxaca City. We ascended the first of the many winding stone staircases we would face during the days ahead to admire the elegantly proportioned blue 8′ organ, built in 1866 by the distinguished Oaxacan organbuilder Pedro Nibra.

The choir loft looked neat and clean, but once we removed the keyboard cover, lo and behold, mice had invaded and left their droppings all over the keyboard! This did allow participants to see the ongoing challenge of organ conservation, since only a year had passed since our last visit to this church.

Though missing around 30% of its pipes, the Jalatlaco organ is still an excellent candidate for a future restoration. When the vans were ready to leave, three participants were missing and it turned out they had been locked in the choir loft, shouting for help, after the sacristan thought everyone had already come down!

We made a quick stop at the famous Tule tree and a local guide pointed out the images evoked by the gnarls of the trunk and branches. Around 1,500 years old, this Montezuma cypress (sabino or ahuehuete) has the stoutest trunk in the world.

Our next destination was San Miguel Tlalixtac, included for the first time in our festival tour. One of the later and larger organs of the Oaxacan school (built ca. 1860), it must have had an impressive look and a huge sound. Many components are missing and a complete reconstruction, though theoretically possible, would make little sense at this point. But for the time being the IOHIO assures its conservation and it was heartening to see our labels still in place from the previous visit some years back. The challenge posed to participants was to imagine how the organ might have looked, based on what remains.

We were received in San Andrés Huayapam, located on the outskirts of Oaxaca City, with a drink of tejate, traditionally served in colorful painted half gourds. A local specialty of pre-Hispanic origin, this delicious foamy drink is made with ground cacao, corn meal, the seed of the mamey fruit and the flower of a tree (rosita de cacao) that grows only in and near Huayapam.

This lovely village church has one of the most beautiful altarpieces in Oaxaca, whose intricately carved columns are referred to as “gilded lace.” Also famous is the collection of antique exvotos, petitions (usually to the Virgin Mary) that are painted on small tin plaques. This and succeeding visits were enhanced by commentaries about the church art by specialists Richard Perry (http://colonialmexico.blogspot.com) and Montserrat Galí.

The 4′ table organ (1772), simply carved and originally painted bright red but now a dark maroon color, is nearly intact and like Jalatlaco, an excellent candidate for a future restoration.

In Huayapam we savored the first of many exquisite meals prepared by the local women. We had mole amarillo served in the atrium of the church. 

That night organist Cicely Winter and percussionist Valentín Hernández presented the festival’s second concert, in the Basílica de la Soledad, featuring well-known regional folk music. Joel Vásquez and Andrea Castellanos were indispensible in pulling the stops, since the music required many changes of registration. The church was once again packed with more than 350 people and the audience had a chance to sing along to several pieces from the texts provided in the programs. The magnificent decorated case of this monumental 8′ organ bears the earliest date of any Oaxacan organ: 1686. The interior components were rebuilt during the 18th century, and the organ was restored in 2000.

Saturday, February 22

The all-day field trip to the Mixteca Alta began with the third concert of the festival in Santa María de la Natividad Tamazulapan and featured professional Mexican and foreign organists, who were delighted to have a chance to play the Oaxacan organs. The contrasting pieces selected by Warren Steel, Margarita Ricardez, Víctor Manuel Rodriguez, and Mary Jane Ballou showcased this little 2′ organ to best advantage.

The portative organ dating from approximately 1720–1730 is situated in a high side balcony overlooking the huge nave of the church and is exquisitely decorated with images of saints and angel musicians. The case and bellows are original but the pipes, keyboard, and interior components were reconstructed in 1996.

As in years past, we have featured music on other instruments to alternate with this small organ and enjoyed the contrast of its sound with baroque and contemporary marimba pieces played by Oaxacan percussionist Gabriela Edith Pérez Díaz and the three guitarists of the ensemble “Terceto Cuicacalli” (Mexico City): Diego Arias Ángel, Miguel Ángel Vences Guerrero, and Eduardo Rodríguez de la Torre. The church has one of the most magnificent baroque altarpieces in all Mexico and includes paintings by the renowned 16th-century Spanish painter Andrés de Concha.

The second organ in this church, an 8′ instrument built in Oaxaca in 1840, faces the small organ from the left balcony. Once a magnificent instrument, it has unfortunately been the victim of vandalism over the years and is missing most of its pipes. Its neo-classic, undecorated aspect contrasts with the baroque opulence of the portative organ.

Our next stop was in the neighboring town of Santiago Teotongo, in which the baroque altarpieces and organ all appear to date from the 18th century, offering a pleasing consistency of artistic style. The profile of the 8′ organ closely resembles that of San Mateo Yucucuí (1743), thus giving us a clue as to its more specific date of construction. Even though it lost all its pipes and keyboard during the Mexican Revolution, the magnificent gilded and painted case still exists.  

The fourth concert took place in Santo Domingo Yanhuitlán, the 16th-century Dominican base in the Mixteca Alta. With its soaring stone vault supported on the sides by flying buttresses and its magnificent altarpieces, it is one of Mexico’s most dazzling complexes of baroque art.

Organist Jesús López Moreno (titular organist of the Mexico City Cathedral), and trumpet player Juan Luis González offered a thrilling program that reverberated throughout the immense atrium. Located on a decorated lateral balcony, the 8′ organ was built around 1690–1700 and reconstructed in France in 1998. Its case is one of the most elaborately decorated in all of Oaxaca, with fantastic swirling imagery as well as Dominican symbols on the case and fierce faces painted on the façade pipes.

Thanks to the ongoing support of the Federal Road and Bridge Commission, a special entrance was opened from the super highway, allowing us direct access to San Andrés Zautla and saving us over an hour of travel time. The folk fiesta and friendly concert in Zautla, contrasting with the majesty of the preceding visit to Yanhuitlán, are always a highlight of the festival.

We were received in the atrium of the church by the elderly women of the town, dressed in their traditional skirts and blouses, and the local band, with fireworks, plenty of mezcal, necklaces of bugambilia, and dancing—and after all of this, a delicious meal of estofado de pollo (chicken stewed in almond sauce) served in the patio behind the church.

After dinner, we crowded into the lovely little church to hear the fifth concert of the festival, presented by organists Mary Jane Ballou, David Furniss, Lee Lovallo, and Tonatiuh González, in alternation with Gabriela Edith Pérez Díaz, percussion, and the guitarists of the Terceto Cuicacalli. Once again the organists presented wonderfully contrasting pieces, even without knowing how they would fit in with the rest of the program. There was a nice improvisatory feel to this concert, which was pleasant at the end of such a packed and exciting day.

It ended with a stirring rendition for vibraphone and guitars of the famous “Huapango” of José Pablo Moncayo.

The case of this 4′ table organ (1726) is exquisitely gilded and painted with images of Sts. Peter and Andrew and four archangels. The Zautla and Tamazulapan bellows are still hand pumped and the register sliders are on the sides, and the projection on the screen allowed people to appreciate the teamwork involved.

Sunday, February 23 

This year we arranged time for interested artists and students to play the organs in Tlacochahuaya and Tlaxiaco and 20 organists, about half foreign and half Mexican, took advantage of the opportunity. There was a delightful atmosphere of camaraderie and we all got to hear many new pieces on yet another organ.

The rest of the group joined us before the sixth concert of the festival in San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya, played by Roberto Fresco. His expert touch lured rarely heard subtleties of sound out of the organ.

This church is one of the loveliest in Mexico with its exuberant interior floral decoration and exquisite baroque altarpieces, all recently restored. The organ was built sometime before 1735 and restored in 1991. The case and pipes are beautifully decorated with floral motifs, and the organ harmonizes perfectly, both visually and acoustically, with the architecture of the church.

We savored a variety of Oaxacan specialties in the “Donají” restaurant in Mitla before proceeding to Tlacolula, where we would spend the rest of the day.

The atrium and church were already bustling with people when we arrived in anticipation of the Mass and inaugural concert of the 8′ organ, built in Oaxaca in 1792 by Manuel Neri y Carmona for the community of Santa María de la Asunción Tlacolula.

Interested participants could climb up to the choir loft to see the newly restored organ up close, hear about its restoration (the case by Oaxacan restorer Eric González Castellanos and the musical and mechanical aspects by the Gerhard Grenzing Taller, El Papiol, Spain) and admire its gorgeous red, gold, and black case decoration. This organ also has very elaborately painted façade pipes.

Afterward, organ aficionados could see the unrestored positive organ, built around 1700 and the smallest in Oaxaca with just two ranks. It was built specifically for the recently restored baroque side chapel of the Señor de Tlacolula. Those who needed a break from organs were able to enjoy one of the most famous indigenous markets in Oaxaca and admire the women’s costumes and the stalls piled high with local produce.

At last the long-awaited moment arrived for the blessing of the organ in a special Mass celebrated by Monseñor José Luis Chávez Botello, Archbishop of Antequera Oaxaca. The Mass was enhanced with participation of the Oaxaca City Chorus, Lourdes Ambriz, soprano, and Rafael Cárdenas and Cicely Winter, organ.

Approximately 1,000 people attended: 500 people were in the church and another 500 were outside in the atrium, listening to the Mass and the music over a loudspeaker. We have been told that this is not a typical turnout for an organ concert in most countries! It was thrilling to hear the organ brought back to life, after so many years of silence and months of careful preparation. One expert characterized its sound as “vocal” and was amazed how perfectly it blended with Lourdes’s pure soprano voice. Rafael led the enthusiastic singing of the Mass with the organ and Lourdes sang several solos.

This was followed by the exciting inaugural concert, the seventh concert of the festival (Lourdes Ambriz, Rafael Cárdenas, and Roberto Fresco), which highlighted all the registrations of the organ. The organ looked stunning, and the community was quite proud of this previously unrecognized aspect of their local culture.

Monday, February 24

For the third time we included a visit to the Tlaxiaco organ and points in between. This trip is not scheduled regularly, because its three-hour distance from Oaxaca City requires an overnight stay.
This year for the first time we visited the Mixtec community of Santiago Ixtaltepec, which is farther away than any others we have included in past festivals, but the dirt road was in good condition and the scenery spectacular.

We included this village to celebrate the inauguration of its museum of musical instruments and colonial art in a small room next to the sacristy. An early 19th-century fortepiano sits on a table and was presumably used as a practice instrument.

There is also a variety of 19th-century band instruments on display. The community hopes that more people will come to visit their museum, and the IOHIO will promote it for anyone willing to make the trip.

The 2′ table organ is the only one of its category in Oaxaca that still has its pipes, although not all of them appear to be original. The keyboard is in excellent condition and the table and bellows are decorated to match the organ. Interestingly enough, the figures depicted on the sides and doors of the organ appear to be Jesuit rather than Dominican, and the church itself has a Franciscan look. We wonder if the organ could have been purchased from another community, since we are discovering that organs were moved around more often than previously imagined.

The community of San Mateo Yucucuí sits on a promontory overlooking the Yanhuitlán Valley. The organ (1743) was never painted or gilded, which would have been typical of the period, probably because the parish ran out of money. But it is richly carved and still has its original keyboard. As mentioned above, its case closely resembles the sumptuously decorated yet empty organ case in Teotongo. It’s too bad that these two organs couldn’t somehow be combined into one! It is said that when this 8′ organ was played, it could be heard for miles around. The floor of the high balcony on which the organ sits is much deteriorated, but the custodian had laid down some planks so that the more daring participants could get a closer look.

Our next stop was at the 16th-century Dominican architectural complex—church, former convent, and the famous open chapel—of San Pedro y San Pablo Teposcolula. The 8′ organ has a similar profile to that of Yanhuitlan but was painted a cream color rather than polychromed, probably because of lack of funds at the time of the construction. We refer to this organ as the “King Midas“ organ, because in 2010 a well-connected architect took the liberty of gilding (at great cost) all the carved pipeshades and moldings, even though they had only been minimally gilded historically; in fact the organ’s manufacture is not of the highest quality. Unfortunately one of the loveliest features of this organ—its delicate carving, which before looked almost like lace—now has a hard look and the shine of the gold obscures the fine work of the carving. So, besides accumulated filth from negligence, the intrusion of animals, and the ongoing risks of earthquakes or fires, we now must be on guard against the whimsical decisions of misguided “experts.”

After lunch in Teposcolula, we drove up into the pine forest to Santa María Tlaxiaco for the eighth concert of the festival. José Francisco Álvarez, organ, and Vladislav Badiarov, baroque violin, concluded the musical aspect of the festival with an elegant program featuring both solo and ensemble pieces.

This monumental 8′ organ, dating from around 1800, offers a broad palette of sonorous possibilities that were enhanced by the excellent acoustics in the church. All the altarpieces and the organ are stylistically matched in neo-classic design and painted white, gold, and red, creating an unusual visual coherence. The imposing, outwardly austere church, one of Oaxaca’s oldest, was the Dominican outpost for this strategic area of the high sierra in the 16th century.

From there we went to the nearby village of San Pedro Mártir Yucuxaco. The table organ here (1740) is complete and in excellent condition, even though its bellows no longer exist. It closely resembles the organ in Zautla, though without the painted decoration, the carved pipeshades include faces in profile, and the keyboard is exquisite.

Tuesday, February 25

Our Mixtec tour continued with a visit to the church and organ of Santiago Tejupan. The lovely polychromed organ case (1776) is the last extant Oaxacan instrument to exhibit religious imagery. The name of the donor, cost of the organ, and date of construction appear inscribed on decorative medallions on the façade. A complete reconstruction of this organ would not make sense, however, since the population has been drastically reduced over the past years, but we hope that the authorities agree to have the case cleaned and restored in order to appreciate the unique portraits.

The splendid altarpieces span from the 17th to the 19th century and highlight the stylistic changes over time.

Our final church and organ visit was in Santa María Tiltepec, for some the crowning visual experience of the field trips. Located in the Dominican sphere of Yanhuitlan and built atop a pre-Hispanic temple, this 16th-century church has long been appreciated by art historians for its richly carved, asymmetrical façade and carved stone interior arches. The unrestored organ, situated on a side balcony, is one of Oaxaca’s oldest (1703) and is unique in its technical design, whimsical decoration, and finely carved keyboard.

We then walked down the hill and across the river to the home of the Cruz García family for our farewell dinner. We feasted on barbacoa de borrego, lamb barbecued Oaxacan style, cooked in the ground over hot rocks and covered with maguey leaves.

Mezcal from San Bartolo Yautepec flowed freely, and everyone had one last chance to enjoy the festival company and dance to music from a local guitar ensemble before returning to Oaxaca.

Wednesday, February 26

Even after the closing ceremony in Tiltepec, this festival just would not stop! About 40 people chose to make the trek up to the recently opened late classic (500–800 AD) archeological site of Santa María Atzompa, part of greater Monte Alban, guided by Dr. Marcus Winter (INAH).

Our festivals create an atmosphere of joy and celebration around the organs and have proved to be the best way to promote and, as a consequence, preserve the organs. We are continually amazed when people ask when the next concert or festival will take place, as we look back on all those years when hardly anyone knew or cared about the organs. And the support and enthusiasm from this year’s wonderful group of participants still energize us as we face many challenges.

Richard Perry’s blogspot (http://colonialmexico.blogspot.com) provides  detailed information and excellent photos of the churches visited during the festival.

The IOHIO is grateful for the support of the following institutions: CONACULTA INAH; Arquidiócesis de Antequera Oaxaca; Universidad de Valladolid, España; Biblioteca Francisco de Burgoa; Museo de Filatelia de Oaxaca (MUFI); and Caminos y Puentes Federales (CAPUFE). We are also grateful for the support of the following Oaxacan businesses: Hostal de la Noría, Hotel Parador San Agustín, Hotel de la Parra, Color Digital. 

Cicely Winter grew up in the state of Michigan, but has lived in Oaxaca since 1972. She studied piano and harpsichord at Smith College and the University of Michigan, where she obtained a B.A. in music and an M.A. in European history. She later studied piano performance at the post-graduate level in the School of Music at Indiana University. She presents organ, piano, and harpsichord concerts regularly, many of which benefit community service projects. In the year 2000 she co-founded el Instituto de Órganos Históricos de Oaxaca A.C. (IOHIO) and since then has served as its director. The IOHIO focuses on the protection and promotion of the sixty-nine historic pipe organs known to date in the state of Oaxaca.

The eighth International Organ and Early Music Festival took place October 21–27, 2010 in Oaxaca, Mexico, with the theme, “Celebrating the Bicentennial of the National Independence and the Centennial of the Mexican Revolution.” To honor the two most significant events in Mexican political history, the IOHIO (Institute of Historic Organs) presented its grandest festival yet. For the first time, music lovers were able to hear concerts on all seven restored organs, a unique opportunity to appreciate the richness and diversity of Oaxaca’s collection of Baroque instruments.
In addition, there were three all-day field trips to visit 12 unrestored instruments in village churches, most of which are usually inaccessible to the public; two masterclasses with Swiss organist and musicologist Guy Bovet; two choral concerts, one of which presented choral works that have not been heard for centuries from the early 18th-century notebook of Domingo Flores from San Bartolo Yautepec; the opportunity for organists to play the organ in the Basílica de la Soledad; guided tours of two archeological sites; an exhibit of historical material related to the organs from various Oaxacan archives; a talk about the organs and the work of the IOHIO; a view of Oaxaca’s splendid and varied scenery during field trips to the Tlacolula Valley and the Mixteca Alta; and a chance to sample the local cuisine and revel in the fiesta traditions in the villages.

October 21, Thursday
The festival began with the first of two masterclasses in San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya given by Guy Bovet. Thirteen Mexican organists and organ students from Oaxaca, Mexico City, Puebla, Queretaro, Morelia, and Toluca, as well as one from the U.S., played for Bovet and a group of some 20 auditors from Mexico and abroad. Participants benefited immensely from Bovet’s explanation of the fine points of Spanish repertoire and performance practice. He carried out an important survey of Mexican organs in the 1980s and 90s sponsored by UNESCO and Pro Helvetia.
That evening, Mexican artists José Francisco Álvarez (organ) and Juan Carlos Murillo (trombone) offered the first concert of the festival in the Basílica de la Soledad. This is the first time the trombone has been featured in a IOHIO festival, and the sound blended brilliantly with the organ in a varied program based on arrangements by José Francisco. The magnificent polychromed case of the organ has the date 1686 inscribed on the side of the case, making it the oldest extant organ in Oaxaca.

October 22, Friday
The second organ masterclass by Guy Bovet in Tlacochahuaya once again focused on the Iberian repertoire of the 16th and 17th centuries. Participants presented works by Correa de Arauxo, Cabanilles, Bruna, Aguilera de Heredia, Cabezón, and Durón.
That afternoon, everyone gathered in the elegant space of the Francisco de Burgoa Library in the former convent of Santo Domingo de Guzman for the inauguration of the eighth festival.
IOHIO director Cicely Winter introduced Ricardo Fuentes and Beatriz Domínguez from the Coordinación Nacional de la Conservación del Patrimonio Cultural (CNCPN) who spoke about the goals of their institution and future collaborations with the IOHIO. Next, Alberto Compiani and Josefina Benavides from the “Radio Monterrey” station spoke about the weekly radio show “His Majesty the Organ,” which Compiani initiated as a result of his ongoing collaboration with the IOHIO. It is hoped that starting next year these programs may be broadcast in Oaxaca. Cicely Winter then offered a presentation about “The Historic Organs of Oaxaca and the Work of the IOHIO.” Her talk was prefaced by special recognition of the initiative of Don Alfredo Harp Helú in support of the restoration and maintenance of the organs.
This was followed by an exhibit of documents related to organs from various Oaxacan archives, “Ad maiorem Dei gloriam, el órgano oaxaqueño al servicio del altar,” which afforded an excellent overview of Oaxacan organ history. The exhibit was curated and presented by Polish researcher and IOHIO collaborator Ricardo Rodys.
The second concert of the festival took place in the Capilla del Rosario (ex-convento de San Pablo) and featured the Capilla Virreinal de la Nueva España directed by Aurelio Tello in the presentation of “Music from the Domingo Flores Book (18th century) of San Bartolo Yautepec.” This notebook was part of a treasure of manuscripts discovered by the IOHIO in Yautepec in 2001.

October 23, Saturday
The all-day field trip to the Mixteca Alta began with the third concert of the festival in Santa María de la Natividad. Barbara Owen opened the program with Baroque dance pieces. Later Guy Bovet improvised a sonata on a Mexican patriotic tune in the style of Sor María Clara and played a Fandango with guitarist Vladimir Ibarra. Gabriela Edith Pérez Díaz enchanted the audience with several pieces by J. S. Bach on the marimba. The Ibarra/Díaz duo then closed their program with a piece for marimba and guitar. At the end of the concert, each of the two IOHIO organ scholarship students from the community played a piece. We did not know that the Pan American Races would take place that day and that the highway was blocked. We were waved through by a police car but did not find out until the end of the day that the friends who drove their own cars to the concert were not allowed to pass.
The fourth concert of the festival in Santo Domingo Yanhuitlán was especially important because this organ has not been played for years due to ongoing restoration work in the church. The audience was transported by the combination of the program “The Splendor of the Cathedrals of Mexico in the 17th century,” presented by the Capilla Virreinal de la Nueva España directed by Aurelio Tello, the setting in one of Mexico’s most magnificent 16th-century Baroque churches, and the acoustics in the vaulted stone space. The renowned Uruguayan organist Cristina García Banegas accompanied the choir and enhanced the program with several magnificent 17th-century solo works.
Thanks to the ongoing support of the Federal Road and Bridge Commission, a special entrance was opened from the super highway, allowing us direct access to San Andrés Zautla and saving us over an hour of travel time. The fiesta and concert in Zautla are always a highlight of the festival. We were received in the atrium of the church by the local band with noisy fireworks, mezcal, and dancing, with the elderly women of the town dressed in their traditional skirts and blouses. We enjoyed a delicious stew with squash seed sauce, a special local recipe, served in the patio behind the church. After dinner, we filed into the church to hear the fifth concert of the festival, presented by organist Cristina García Banegas in alternation with Gabriela Edith Pérez Díaz, percussion, and Vladimir Ibarra, guitar. Banegas’s program combined light 18th-century dances with more modern works, including one of her own compositions, while Díaz and Ibarra offered modern works for guitar and complete percussion ensemble. The case decoration of this 4′ table organ (1726) is among the most elaborate in all of Mexico.

October 24, Sunday
This day was dedicated to visiting unrestored organs in the Tlacolula Valley. Our first stop was in San Matías Jalatlaco, located just on the edge of the historic center of Oaxaca City. This lovely 8′ organ, painted blue, was built in 1866 by Pedro Nibra and though missing some pipes, is quite restorable.
We continued on to San Andrés Huayapam and its lovely country church with a splendid gilded altarpiece. The 4′ table organ (1772) is in nearly perfect condition and would require little to make it playable. We were refreshed by a drink of tejate, a specialty of this community.
We made a brief stop at the famous tree in Santa María del Tule before proceeding to Santa María Tlacolula. It was market day and a local saint was also being celebrated, so the streets were packed and it was difficult to get one’s bearings because of the tall tents and rides. First we viewed the little 2′ 18th-century processional organ, the smallest in Oaxaca, which was built for a small chapel. Then we climbed up to the choir loft to see the 8′ organ in the choir loft. Dating presumably from the mid-18th century, this stately organ is nearly complete and has the most elaborately painted façade pipes in all of Mexico.
We were all set to proceed to Mitla for lunch, but a police car was blocking our vans and it took at least a half hour to track down the driver and convince him to move. As a result we had to rush through the rest of the day. After our midday meal in Mitla, we zoomed to San Dionisio Ocotepec to view one of Oaxaca’s earliest and most important organs (1721). This 4′ stationary instrument, though missing its pipes and keyboard, is the closest relative to the Tlacochahuaya organ. Its doors, which were removed from the organ, framed, and hung in the sacristy, were brought to the choir loft for viewing. One of them depicts King David playing his harp and the other, Santa Cecilia playing the Ocotepec organ, showing the bellows behind and the original façade decoration.
We arrived in San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya just in time for the sixth concert of the festival. Guy Bovet offered an elegant program combining serious works of the Spanish repertoire with lighter pieces such as verses from the Sor María Clara notebook. His program ended with an improvisation on the Oaxacan tune “Amor Juvenil,” with Antonio de Jesús Hernández, the 15-year-old son of the sacristan on the trombone. This organ (ca. 1735) is the jewel in the Oaxacan crown. Its gorgeously decorated case and façade pipes make it a work of art in its own right and it synchronizes perfectly with the acoustics and exuberantly painted decoration of the church.

October 25, Monday
Participants had the choice of playing the organ in La Soledad or going on a guided tour of archeological site of Monte Albán with Marcus Winter of the INAH (Instituto Nacional de Antropologia e Historia). There was free time for the rest of the day until the seventh concert of the festival presented that evening in the Oaxaca Cathedral by Cristina García Banegas. Her concert was varied and exciting, and included pieces from the Jesuit mission in Chiquitos, Bolivia. There was an excellent turnout for this concert.

October 26, Tuesday
We departed early in the morning for our two-day journey through the Mixteca Alta. This was only the second time that a concert had been programmed on the organ in Santa María Tlaxiaco, because its three-hour distance from Oaxaca City requires an overnight stay.
Our first stop was in Santa María Tinú. This small stone church houses an organ (1828) that is disproportionately large for the interior space. The organ, completely intact and played just a generation ago, still grunts and wheezes when the bellows located in the loft above are pumped. It is possible that it could be made to play again with just an overall cleaning and patching of the winding system.
We proceeded to San Mateo Yucucuí. The organ (1743) was never painted but is richly carved. The floor of the high side balcony on which the organ sits is much deteriorated, but the custodian had laid down some planks so that participants could get a closer look at the organ. The situation has been evaluated by the INAH and a repair project is under consideration.
Santa María Tiltepec is one of several extant organs located near Yanhuitlan. Appreciated by art historians for its richly carved façade, this 17th-century church houses one of Oaxaca’s oldest organs (1703), unique in both its construction technique and whimsical carved and painted decoration.
After lunch in Teposcolula, we ascended up through the pine forest to Santa María Tlaxiaco. Guy Bovet’s presentation of the eighth and final concert of the festival included some of the most stirring pieces of the 17th-century repertoire and ended with an improvisation on the “Canción Mixteca.” This beautiful 8′ organ, the only 19th-century restored instrument in Oaxaca, offers a broad palette of sound possibilities, which resounded throughout the beautiful church.

October 27, Wednesday
After breakfast, we departed for the late pre-classic and classic Mixtec archeological site of San Martín Huamelulpan for a guided tour by Marcus Winter of the INAH and a visit to the community museum.
From there we went to the nearby village of San Pedro Mártir Yucuxaco. The table organ here (1740) is complete and in excellent condition, even though its bellows no longer exist. It closely resembles the organ in Zautla, though without the painted decoration, the carved pipeshades include faces in profile, and the keyboard is one of Oaxaca’s most exquisite.
The open chapel, church, and ex-convent in San Pedro y San Pablo Teposcolula comprise one of the most amazing 16th-century Dominican complexes in Mexico. A project is nearing conclusion to gild the carved decoration of the 18th-century monumental organ in areas where there was no evidence of former gilding. The IOHIO was not notified of this project and it is being investigated. The organ has a similar profile to that of Yanhuitlan but was painted a cream color rather than polychromed, probably because of lack of funds at the time of the construction.
After lunch, we continued on to Santiago Teotongo, where we could admire the organ as part of one of the most splendid Baroque churches in Mexico. The organ seems to date from the mid-18th century because of the resemblance of its profile to the organ in San Mateo Yucucuí (1743). Even though it lost all its pipes and keyboard during the Mexican Revolution, the magnificent gilded and polychromed case still exists.
Our Mixtec tour culminated with a visit to the church and organ of Santiago Tejupan. This lovely polychromed organ (1776) is the last extant Oaxacan instrument to exhibit religious imagery on the case. Even though it no longer has its pipes or keyboard, the community is most interested in having it reconstructed some day. The name of the donor, cost of the organ, and date of construction appear inscribed on decorative medallions on the façade. Just before getting in to the vans to return to Oaxaca City, Cicely Winter announced that she had a surprise for everyone . . . a visit to one more organ! (just kidding!)

Everyone agreed that the Eighth Festival was spectacular. All the planning and organizational work beforehand really paid off and there were no major glitches, at least within our control. For the first time, we set up a screen and projected the concerts in the church below so that the audience could see the organist and the rest of the activity in the choir loft—this proved to be enormously successful. Three of the organ concerts included pieces from the notebook of the Oaxacan nun Sor María Clara del Santísimo Sacramento. The group of participants could not have been more congenial and included organists, organbuilders, organ students, anthropologists, academics, musicians, teachers, restorers, cultural promoters, and other professionals. It will be a pleasure to maintain contact with these wonderful new members of our growing IOHIO community. During the coming year we look forward to presenting more concerts, producing more CDs, continuing our documentation and conservation project, and writing a book about the Oaxaca organs. So when we organize our Ninth Festival sometime in 2012 we will have a lot to celebrate! 

The sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise—they provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short

What if I told you that there is surviving Italian organ music as splendid as Giovanni Gabrieli’s In Ecclesiis and as ethereal as Gregorio Allegri’s Miserere? A few months ago, I would not have believed it either. In fact, I was under the impression that compared to Italy’s glorious tradition of ensemble music, its organ music was of lesser importance, and its historical organs were pretty but small. On paper, every instrument looked the same—a single manual, one octave of pull-down pedals, and a stoplist consisting of a principal chorus (the Ripieno), a flute or two, and perhaps a Voce Umana.¹ Three months of studying organ in Italy with Francesco Cera radically changed my mind. I went intending to obtain a more complete picture of early organ music, having already spent time in France, Holland, and Germany. I left in love with a magnificent collection of keyboard music.  

My change of heart began not with the music but with the art and architecture of Italy. The entire country is like a giant open-air museum. Visitors can enter and experience the very places where Gabrieli, Frescobaldi, and so many others made music. That they were inspired by their surroundings is impossible to contest. These places are by definition inspiring. They were designed by the world’s greatest architects and filled with art by the greatest sculptors and painters from anonymous Roman masters to Pinturicchio, Raffaello, Michelangelo, Bernini, Tintoretto, and many others. Elaborate organ cases are among the most striking architectural features of many Italian churches and palace chapels. I began to realize that such glorious spaces where the organ had so much visual importance simply must have resounded with impressive organ playing. 

The instruments themselves also provided indisputable proof. They were far from boring. Though their stoplists were similar, their tonal character varied widely from region to region in a way that perfectly complemented the art and architecture of the area. What of the music that survived for these instruments? At first glance, it seemed simple to me, appeared not to require pedals, and certainly seemed an inappropriate choice for performance on modern instruments. Fortunately, all of this was only an illusion created by a style of musical notation that left many crucial interpretive decisions to the discretion of the performer, who would have been familiar with the contemporary musical style and performance practices. I learned why an understanding and appreciation of historical art, architecture, and instruments and a knowledge of the surviving repertoire and treatises are so crucial for today’s performer.  

Early Italian keyboard music is most successful when its interpretation is informed by historical sources and inspired by the conviction that it is the aural representation of Italy’s breathtaking visual splendor. Italy’s art, architecture, and music can be organized into regional schools based in four of Italy’s most historically important cities: Venice and Florence in the north, Rome in central Italy, and Naples in the south. Allow me to share some of the highlights of my journey to discover their art, historical organs, and keyboard music. 

Venetian Splendor 

Today, the city of Venice continues to exist mainly because of the tourists. Many of the locals have moved to the mainland. Nevertheless, the city’s colorful vibrancy and the remnants of its former grandeur are very evident. The reds, oranges, and yellows of the houses and shops, the green of the canals, the aquamarine of the lagoon, and the glistening white of the church façades are a feast for the eyes. Appropriately, Venice’s painters—Titian, Tintoretto and others—are famed for their use of color and the way that light seems to shine from within their paintings. Of the city’s 114 churches, the Basilica Cattedrale di San Marco is the most famous (Figure 1). One of the finest examples of Byzantine architecture, its exterior is covered with inlaid marble and carvings, while its interior glows with gilded mosaics. Besides its breathtaking opulence, the sheer size of the cathedral is impressive. Remarkably, at the time of Claudio Merulo (1533–1604), Andrea Gabrieli (1533–1585), and the rest of the illustrious line of musicians who worked here, San Marco was not a cathedral, but the private chapel of the Doge of Venice, and Venice was one of the richest and most important cities in the world! My impression of Venetian organ music changed completely when I examined it through the lens of Venice’s vibrant color palette and astounding splendor.

Organs of Northern Italy

The organs of northern Italy are characterized by their cantabile tone. Some also have much more colorful stoplists than organs in other parts of Italy. In 2006, Giorgio Carli completed the restoration of the 1565 Graziadio Antegnati organ of the Basilica di Santa Barbara, the private chapel of the duke of Mantua.  The organ’s case is beautiful. Its richly painted doors contrast with the white walls of the chapel. This instrument was built under the direction of organist and composer Girolamo Cavazzoni (1520–1577). Its 16′ plenum is glowing rather than brilliant, perfect for Cavazzoni’s music, which is closely related to choral polyphony. As was the norm in Italy until the 18th century, the organ is tuned in mean-tone temperament, but the keyboard has split keys (Figure 2), allowing the player to choose between D# and Eb and between G# and Ab, thus enabling one to play in many more tonalities and to better imitate the pure intonation that a vocal ensemble is able to achieve. The keyboard and pedalboard both have particularly long compasses, the keyboard from C to F5 and the pedalboard from C to A2. The music of Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni (1485–1550), Girolamo’s father, demands such a compass. This long key compass also permits the organist to play in different octaves, using the 16′ Principale at 8′ pitch, for example. The winding of this organ is a special treat. Rather than supplying an electric blower, Giorgio Carli installed an automatic bellow lifter to pump the bellows. This allows the player to experience the wonderful flexibility of playing on pumped wind without the trouble of hiring a person to pump the bellows.  

Near Mantua, in the Chiesa di San Tommaso Cantuariense in Verona, stands a well-preserved 18th-century organ built by Giuseppe Bonatti in 1716. It is a two-manual instrument with an unusually colorful stoplist and a lavish complement of special effects. The main manual controls the Grand Organo—the usual Ripieno plus a Cornetto (in two parts: 4′-22⁄3′ and 2′-13⁄5′), Trombe reali, and two flutes. An exquisitely crafted Regale with rare original parchment resonators mounted on a separate windchest like a Brustwerk is also playable from the main manual. The second manual controls the Organo Piccolo, a tiny 4′ echo division situated behind the player. Other special effects include a chorus of bird stops (Figure 3) and a Tamburo (a stop played by the lowest pedal note that imitates a drum using a cluster of bass pipes). The pedals are permanently coupled to the main manual, but this organ also includes an independent pedal reed and Contrabassi—octave of 16′ wooden pipes. The tone of the organ is sweet and elegant, thanks in part to its comparatively low wind pressure, a common feature of Italian organs. The wind pressure of this Bonatti organ is set at 53–55 mm. By contrast, the wind pressure of the comparably sized 1704 Schnitger organ in Eenum, the Netherlands, is set at 62.5 mm. The tonal variety and elegance of the Bonatti organ make it perfect for 18th-century music, including the music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who, incidentally, played this instrument while on tour in Italy.   

Music of the Venetian and Emilian Schools

The keyboard music of northern Italy reached its peak during the Renaissance. Its focal point was the Basilica di San Marco in Venice. The splendid polychoral tradition of the basilica profoundly influenced the organ music of the Venetian school. Composers of the Venetian school were responsible for some of the most important developments in keyboard composition of both the Renaissance and the Baroque. Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni’s collection, Recerchari, mottetti, canzoni–Libro primo, printed in Venice in 1523, is one of the most important examples of early 16th-century organ music. Cavazzoni was born in Bologna, where he probably received his musical training at the Basilica di San Petronio, and likely knew the famous 1475 Lorenzo da Prato organ there. Later he moved to Venice and was an assistant to Adriano Willaert at San Marco. Cavazzoni’s recerchari are particularly significant, because they are among the earliest free compositions for the organ. These recerchari are majestic pieces written in an improvisatory style. Like later toccatas, they investigate idiomatic keyboard figuration rather than counterpoint. While his father, Marc’Antonio, was a pioneer in developing idiomatic keyboard figuration, Girolamo Cavazzoni, organist at Santa Barbara in Mantua, was a master of imitating vocal polyphony at the keyboard. An understanding of the text of the chants, motets, and chansons on which many of his works are based is absolutely crucial for a successful interpretation.  

Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli worked together as organists at San Marco. Merulo was renowned and influential during his lifetime. Girolamo Diruta dedicated Il Transilvano, one of the most important treatises on Italian organ music, to him. Merulo’s toccatas were the first to alternate virtuosic and imitative sections, a technique that Frescobaldi and the North German organ school would use later. Also, foreshadowing the Baroque, they often use ornamental figures as motives. Merulo’s music is full of unique written-out trills and diminutions. Studying it is an excellent way to learn how to add ornaments to repertoire of the 16th and early 17th centuries. In comparison, Gabrieli’s music may seem rather subdued, but, in fact, it only lacks the profusion of notated trills. Presumably, Gabrieli would have added these in performance. His Ricercari ariosi are particularly beautiful adaptations of the polychoral style.  

Eighteenth-century Bolognese composer Giovanni Battista Martini (1706–1784) was highly esteemed during his lifetime, and attracted students from around the world. Leopold Mozart even asked his advice concerning the talents of his son. Nevertheless, his surviving compositions do not seem to justify his reputation. They are pleasant but simple pieces in galant style. Consider them in context, however, and the picture changes. The majority of these pieces survive in manuscripts written in Martini’s own hand. They are predominantly written in two-voice structure, but occasional figured bass symbols suggest that they were really sketches, and that the organist was expected to fill out the texture by adding chords. Some of Martini’s Sonate per l’Elevazione survive in both simple and elaborately ornamented forms, exemplifying how he might have actually performed them.² Playing Martini’s music as written is a little like stripping a Baroque church down to bare plaster walls. Far from being easy and uninspiring, these pieces are charming examples of Italian Rococo organ style and exciting vehicles for creativity.

Rome’s Legacy

Rome is sometimes called “the Eternal City.” It displays its long rich history in an abundance of art and architecture (Figure 4). Romans are proud of their heritage. In the past, Rome’s great noble families collected antiquities, displaying them in their palaces. The Farnese collection, now on exhibit in the Naples National Archeological Museum, is particularly impressive evidence that admiration of antiquity dates back at least to the beginning of the 16th century. Many of its more than 300 marble sculptures were unearthed in archeological excavations specifically conducted on behalf of Pope Paul III and other members of the Farnese family. These same noble families and the Roman Catholic Church employed contemporary artists as well, who left masterpieces from every historical era. The poignant perfection of High Renaissance works like Michelangelo’s Pietà in St. Peter’s Basilica, the dramatic lighting and gestures of Baroque treasures like Caravaggio’s Crucifixion of Peter in the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Popolo or Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Theresa in the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Vittoria, and the busy ornamentation of Rococo creations like the organ case of the Werle organ in the Basilica di Sant’Eustachio are all on display. In the churches, clouds of angels surround visitors, while the palaces seek to amaze them with marvels of architecture like Bernini’s and Borromini’s staircases, which compete for attention in the Barberini palace. For me, Rome’s deep appreciation of its long tradition of artistic excellence is the key to understanding the music written there.   

Organs of Central Italy

Only a few of Rome’s Renaissance and Baroque organs survive. As in many large wealthy European cities, pipe organs were replaced as fashions changed. Nevertheless, the smaller towns and villages in central Italy are home to a wealth of unique historical organs. It is far beyond the scope of this article to describe them all—the city of Rieti, where I spent much of my Italian sojourn, alone is home to 14 historical organs in varying states of playability. Let me begin by describing one of the oldest organs in Italy. It was built in 1509 by Paolo di Pietro Paolo da Montefalco, and is located in the Chiesa di San Francesco in Trevi, Umbria (Figure 5). This instrument is priceless for many reasons including its antiquity, its proximity to the birthplace of Girolamo Diruta, the way that it documents the history of organbuilding, and certainly also its beauty. Organbuilder Andrea Pinchi told me how thrilled he was to be given the opportunity to restore this instrument in 2005, having been convinced since he was a teenager that the case in the Chiesa di San Francesco held something very special. When it was first built, the organ consisted of a five-rank Ripieno and a Flauto in ottava.³ In the 17th century, a Flauto in duodecima was added, and in the 18th century the important Umbrian organbuilder Fedeli restored the instrument and added a Voce Umana and Cornetta. Because they reflect the historical development of the organ, these stops were all preserved in the restoration. The sound of this organ is bright and brilliant. The small Ripieno easily fills the sizable Gothic church. Like the Antegnati organ in Mantua, this was an instrument designed to imitate vocal music. Its extremely sensitive key action allows the player to create subtle text-like inflections by varying attacks and releases.

The organs that Frescobaldi played at St. Peter’s have long disappeared, but a splendid 17th-century Roman organ does survive to transport Frescobaldi’s sound world to the present day. The 1612 Giovanni Guglielmi organ in the Chiesa di Santa Maria in Vallicella (Figure 6) was restored by Ruffatti in the year 2000, but it continues to lack the international attention that it deserves. It is a large instrument based on 16′ pitch. The grandeur of the Ripieno is enhanced by many doubled ranks and by a trumpet. I was surprised to learn that a trumpet stop was a common feature of large Roman organs. The 1597 Luca Blasi organ of the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano, for example, also includes a trumpet. Perhaps the most eye-opening aspect of the Guglielmi organ is its narrow pipe scaling. The organ’s sound is bright, almost nasal, but crystal clear. It is simply impossible to cover up passagework even with the densest chordal accompaniment. The spectacular case of this instrument is also noteworthy. It is, as it were, created using ornamentation, including two giant sculptures of angels, and the entire case is sumptuously overlaid with gold.⁴ The matching case in the other transept of the church now contains an 1895 Morettini organ, which also merits a visit.

Music of the Roman School

Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583–1643) grew up in Ferrara, home of the great d’Este family. While Frescobaldi was young, many notable composers—including Claudio Monteverdi, Orlando di Lasso, Claudio Merulo, and Carlo Gesualdo—visited court. As a child prodigy studying with court organist Luzzasco Luzzaschi, Frescobaldi absorbed these diverse influences. In his early twenties, he decided to seek his fortune in Rome, and proceeded to write and publish some of the most important music of the 17th century and to pass on his skill to talented students from all over Europe.  

Frescobaldi’s music is like the city of Rome. It glories in tradition while being unafraid of innovation. Walking in the footsteps of Lasso and Palestrina, Frescobaldi composes masterful counterpoint, but juxtaposes it with flamboyant baroque figuration, skillfully incorporating affect figures. In his performance instructions that preface Il primo libro di capricci of 1624,⁵ he explains that in his music the metrical relationships that were so important in Renaissance music are now governed by the mood of the music. His sacred music, including the three Masses of Fiori musicali and the two extended elevation toccatas from his Secondo libro di toccate, is deeply spiritual. Frescobaldi masterfully communicates the meaning of the Mass liturgy into his settings. His elevation toccatas take the listener on a journey through contemplation, sympathy, and ecstasy. Though at first glance Fiori musicali seems like just another book of short pieces, when these pieces are considered together they form imposing Mass settings, and it becomes clear that this collection shares the monumentality of other early Roman Baroque sacred art like the baldacchino that Bernini designed for St. Peter’s Basilica (Figure 7).

Similarly, Bernardo Pasquini’s (1637–1710) music demonstrates both his admiration for the past as well as contemporary tastes. His output is extensive and varied, ranging from works like the Fantasia la mi fa fa and the Capriccio in G, which recall Frescobaldi’s contrapuntal works, to figured bass sonatas and versets, to variations, toccatas, and suites in a style similar to that of his friend and colleague Arcangelo Corelli, and foreshadowing the keyboard writing of his most famous pupil, Domenico Scarlatti.  

Michelangelo Rossi’s (1601–1656) music shows the other face of the Roman Baroque—the face that seeks to shock and amaze, especially by breaking the rules. During his lifetime, Rossi was best known as a virtuoso violinist. He also composed at least two operas and spent most of his life working as a court rather than a church musician. His ten keyboard toccatas are formally similar to Frescobaldi’s toccatas, but are full of startling effects and chromaticism that borders on the grotesque. In them, extreme virtuosity makes up for contrapuntal simplicity.  

Neapolitan Daring

Drama and audacity are a key part of Neapolitan art. For twenty-five centuries, Naples has brazenly lain in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. It is a city of daring and a city of extremes. Emerging from the strange semi-darkness of the old city’s narrow streets, for example, one finds oneself confronted by the glittering brilliance of the bay. Neapolitan art and architecture express this too. Naples is famous for its seemingly quaint hand-crafted nativity scenes. Take a closer look, and you will find them full of drama enacted by humorous and grotesque characters. Behind a most forbidding fortress-like block façade, soars the opulent Baroque interior of the Chiesa del Gesù Nuovo, with its profusion of colorful frescoes, inlaid marbles, and priceless treasures. Similarly, the famous sculptures of the Cappella Sansevero, including Giuseppe Sanmartino’s The Veiled Christ, combine absolute technical perfection with gestures and facial expressions so full of pathos that they do not just invite an emotional response from their viewer, they force one. 

Organs of Southern Italy

My most memorable experience with southern Italian organs occurred during a trip to the town of Teggiano in the region of Campania. The south of Italy is full of secluded towns and villages and many undiscovered artistic treasures. Teggiano is home to several historical instruments, but the two most interesting were built around the turn of the 17th century—one in 1595 (Figure 8) and one in 1619 (Figure 9), only four years after the publication of Giovanni Maria Trabaci’s Secondo Libro de Ricercate et altri varij Capricci. Neapolitan-style instruments from this time period are extremely rare. Neither instrument is playable at this time.⁶ The restoration of the 1595 instrument is nearly complete, but has been suspended because of a lack of funding. The 1619 instrument, though magnificent, is still a ruin. Nevertheless, they still reveal much about Neapolitan organ music from the late Renaissance time. The pipe scaling used in these instruments is extremely narrow and would produce a sound as brilliant and arresting as the glaring Neapolitan sun. In addition, both instruments have very narrow cases that would act only as soundboards, and would not mix or soften the sound at all (Figure 10). 

The Neapolitan area was also home to talented 18th-century organbuilders, including Silverio Carelli. In 1784, Carelli built a beautiful instrument as a gift for the cathedral of his hometown of Vallo della Lucania. Its tone is sweet and full; several ranks including the Principale 8′ are doubled. Its keyboard and pedalboard are both fully chromatic, also in the lowest octave. The case is magnificent (Figure 11). Carelli spared no expense in building this instrument. He even included bagpipes, which could be used to play pastorali at Christmas time—so fitting in an area famous for its hand-crafted pastoral scenes.         

Music of the Neapolitan School

Like the Venetian school of keyboard music, the Neapolitan school flourished during the late Renaissance. Its leader was the Franco-Flemish composer Giovanni de Macque (1550–1614). He worked for the Gesualdo household and later as maestro di cappella for the Spanish viceroy. Giovanni Maria Trabaci (1575–1647) and Ascanio Mayone (1565–1627) served under De Macque as organists of the royal chapel. Their music is radical. De Macque’s in particular is full of daring harmonies and forbidden intervals. How it must have appalled proponents of strict Renaissance counterpoint! But then, it was written in Naples, not in Rome. As was the Neapolitan tradition, the music of De Macque, Trabaci, and Mayone is suitable for performance on keyboard instruments as well as on harp. It stands to reason that the composers assumed that the performer would make adjustments idiomatic to the instruments on which they chose to perform, adding a pedal part on the organ, arpeggiating chords on the harpsichord, and so on. Unlike Frescobaldi, none of the Neapolitan composers wrote prefaces including detailed performance practice instructions, but Trabaci does include an important word of warning in the preface to his Libro primo (1603).⁷ He writes that his music is carefully composed, but that study is necessary to discern the spirit of the music. Should the performer neglect to do this study, it will be their own fault if they did not succeed in realizing his intentions. Of course, it is impossible to know today exactly what Trabaci meant by this statement, but one thing is sure: in order to perform this Neapolitan music convincingly, it is crucial to study, determine the affect that the composer sought to convey, and then to do everything possible to communicate it as intensely as possible.

Conclusions

In conclusion, allow me to offer a few practical suggestions regarding interpreting the notation of early Italian organ music. Musical notation developed over the centuries to include more and more performance information. At first, however, it was simply a memory aid in a musical tradition that was transmitted orally. Early Italian notation of keyboard music gives no information about dynamics or registration, and little information about tempo or the use of pedal. Some composers, like Merulo, for example, notate trills and other ornaments, while others notate only the minimum of ornaments, and still others like Martini provide only a skeleton of their composition. Both the typesetting of modern editions as well as the moveable type in use in the 16th and early 17th centuries make this music appear rigid. Further, the time signatures and note values common at this time tend to be much larger than we are accustomed to today. Quarter notes in the music, for example, are often the same speed as what we would notate as eighth or even sixteenth notes today. As a result, this music can appear simple and boring at first glance. Performed with a good dose of imagination—and, as Trabaci reminds us, sufficient study—however, this music is completely captivating, and its exuberance is sure to attract music connoisseurs and first-time concertgoers alike.  

Diruta’s Il Transilvano (1593), Antegnati’s L’arte organica (1608), and Adriano Banchieri’s L’organo suonarino (1605), along with a good ear, are the best guides for choosing registration. In Renaissance music, a slow tactus permeates the music, and the relationships among meters help to establish a tempo. In Baroque music, the tempo is more flexible and governed by the affect of the music, as Frescobaldi discusses in the prefaces to his Libro primo di capricci and his two Libri di toccate. Historical Italian organs are the best source of information regarding pedaling. With the exception of some 18th-century organs, Italian organs have pull-down pedals with no independent stops, but they are very effective for reinforcing a cadence, harmonic sequences, or a cantus firmus. As Frescobaldi demonstrates in his two toccate sopra i pedali, the pedals can also be used to sustain pedal points. Most composers did not notate these pedal points, though their toccatas often feature extended passages decorating a single harmony. Adding a pedal point in these passages makes the organ sound much fuller and more impressive. Studying written-out ornaments and examples of diminutions in treatises like Silvestro Ganassi’s Opera intitulata Fontegara (1535) will help a performer to develop a repertory of ornaments. Playing from facsimiles of music that were published using beautiful copper engraving, like the toccatas of Frescobaldi and Rossi, allows one to avoid the uninspiring straightness of modern notation. As Frescobaldi counsels in the preface to his Fiori musicali, contrapuntal music should be studied in its original open score format. This is guaranteed to deliver much more coherent counterpoint.⁸   

Now is the perfect time to restore early Italian organ music from its relative neglect. Much music that was unavailable outside Italy has recently been released in excellent modern or facsimile editions, formerly unplayable instruments are being restored, research has uncovered helpful performance practice information, and new recordings of ancient instruments are allowing people around the world to experience their beauty for the first time.⁹ But, in my opinion, the sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise. They provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short.

The author thanks Francesco Cera for his assistance in preparing this article.  

Ingenious design

After spending hundreds of nights in New York hotels over the years, and having had the opportunity to borrow a friend’s place in Greenwich Village for several months, Wendy and I decided last winter that we should have a place in the city, and we started shopping. We had fallen in love with the neighborhood of that borrowed apartment, and sure enough, we found a terrific place in the building next door. It’s on the corner of Broadway and East Ninth Street, halfway between the Hudson and East Rivers. We’re on the southwest corner of the building with lots of windows facing in two directions. We can look west down Ninth Street, over the top of the West Village, and across the Hudson to see the sun set over New Jersey—how romantic.

The previous owner had done a thoughtful job decorating the place, blending several tones of blue and gray paint in the kitchen and living room. But the ceiling of the bedroom was metallic silver, the sliding doors of the hall closet were bright purple, and the inside of the front door was neon orange. What was she thinking? We got out our paint brushes, set everything right, and moved in in mid-February.  

I know that the choice of decorations is a personal thing, and I suppose the previous owner really liked the color scheme, but we thought it was revolting, as did the few select friends who saw the place before we painted.

Organ facade design

I’ve been thinking a lot about design because over the last month I’ve been working with a client on the layout and façade design for the relocation and installation of a large organ in a building currently under construction. I’ve conferred with the architect of the building, and now an organ architect is at work creating a concept. I have the building drawings spread out on the worktable in my study, and bundles of information about pipe scales, chest layout, and specifications. It’s thrilling and more than a little daunting because we’re working with a very large organ, and I’m well aware that the appearance and musical impact of the organ will dominate the worship of this church for generations. Later this summer we will present the design to the church. I imagine there will be some discussion and probably some revisions before the design is approved and we can get to work building the organ.

The New York architecture of 

Stanford White

Our apartment in New York is near Washington Square Park, a vibrant gathering place in the midst of the campus of New York University. On a summer evening, there are street performers and musical jam sessions. One night, there was a group of students who had wheeled a piano out into the square. There are stone tables with permanent chessboards where our son Andy loves to go pick up games with the crowd of regulars. And the architecture of Stanford White is all around you. Stanford White (1853–1906) apprenticed with the architect Henry Hobson Richardson (1838–1886), who is best known for his design of Trinity Church, Copley Square, Boston. For much of his career, White was a partner in the extraordinarily prolific and revered firm of McKim, Mead & White.  

White designed an impressive catalogue of buildings in New York and around the country. One of his grandest was the original Madison Square Garden, located at Madison Square on Madison Avenue between Twenty-Sixth and Twenty-Seventh Streets. Ironically, that was the site of White’s death. He had an apartment in the building, where he apparently entertained a gorgeous young actress named Evelyn Nesbit. Evelyn’s jealous husband Harry Thaw shot White point-blank during a theatrical performance. (Funny that today’s Madison Square Garden is an architectural nightmare at Eighth Avenue and Thirty-First Street, more than a half mile from Madison Square.)  

In 1889, New York City celebrated the centennial of the inauguration of George Washington as the first president of the United States. Stanford White was commissioned to design a temporary arch across Fifth Avenue about 150 feet north of Washington Square. It was a spindly thing made of wood and plaster, and White capped it with a cheap statue of Washington that he found in a New York junk shop—it looked a little like the tacky plastic bride-and-groom figures on a wedding cake.  

A year later, the cornerstone was laid for a permanent monumental stone arch on the north edge of Washington Square, which is the beginning of Fifth Avenue—an apartment building there is called “One Fifth Avenue”—isn’t that a classy address? The 70-foot marble arch, reminiscent of L’arc de Triomphe on the Champs Élysées in Paris, was dedicated in 1895. It’s fun to note that the faces of the angels in the spandrels on either side of the arch are those of Mrs. William Rhinelander Stewart, wife of the treasurer of the arch project, and of White’s wife, Bessie!¹

Standing in the middle of the square, looking north up Fifth Avenue is one of New York’s great views showing the Empire State Building framed in the arch—especially dramatic at night as the buildings are well lit.

On the southern edge of the park is Judson Memorial Church, another of White’s buildings, which features a ten-story campanile modeled after the tower of the twelfth-century church of San Giorgio in Velabro, Italy.² To complete the sumptuous design of this magnificent building, the windows are by John La Farge. The Judson Church is home to a 28-rank Roosevelt organ built in 1892—now available through the Organ Clearing House.

The Church of the Ascension (Episcopal) is five blocks up Fifth Avenue, home to a terrific new organ built in 2010 by Pascal Quoirin of St. Didier, Provence, France. Visit <http://nycago.org/Organs/NYC/html/AscensionEpis.html&gt; for a description of this marvelous and unusual instrument. (See also The Diapason, November 2011, pp. 1, 30–32.) Above the altar is a spectacular mural by John La Farge, depicting, you guessed it, the Ascension of Christ with an ostentatious gold faux (painted) proscenium arch designed by Stanford White.

In 1882, the famous jeweler Charles L. Tiffany commissioned White to design a family residence on the northwest corner of Madison Avenue and Seventy-Second Street. The mammoth building included separate “apartments” for Mr. Tiffany and two of his children, one of whom was the great artist and designer Louis Comfort Tiffany. That made White a “designer’s designer” and he and Louis Tiffany had a long collaborative relationship.³ 

It’s amusing to note that while Stanford White was able to satisfy and please Louis Tiffany, the publisher Joseph Pulitzer was among the fussiest of White’s clients. White designed renovations of a house owned by Pulitzer, which later burned, and was subsequently engaged to plan Pulitzer’s new house on East Seventy-Third Street. Pulitzer rejected several plans presented by White.  

Both Tiffany’s home on Seventy-Second Street and Pulitzer’s on Seventy-Third included large Aeolian pipe organs equipped with the famous automatic roll players.

Organ case architecture

One of the compelling features of a fine pipe organ is its architectural appearance. We are all familiar with the great classical organ cases, the best known of which is the organ completed by Christian Müller at St. Bavo in Haarlem, Holland in 1738. It is 274 years old, and played regularly for worship, concerts, festivals, and recordings. It has all the architectural features of the organs of its day—towers and fields of façade pipes, lots of moldings and carvings, brilliant colors, and gold leaf. But when you stop and think, you can see that many of these features are driven by the internal design of the organ.

Most classical organ cases are symmetrical. Symmetry is pleasing to the eye, but there are practical reasons for it. The symmetry of an organ case reflects the symmetry of the organ’s interior. When the interior of the organ is symmetrical, the weight is balanced, and it’s easier and more economical to build a symmetrical structure than one that is out of balance. Tell that to Frank Gehry, designer of the wild façade of the Glätter-Gotz/Rosales organ in Walt Disney Hall in Los Angeles. It must have cost a fortune to make those curved wooden Violone pipes.

Classical organ cases have architectural towers that contain the larger façade pipes. These are typically either pointed (triangular in plan) or rounded. Round towers are sometimes modified half-octagons. Obviously, the towers are integral to the architectural appearance of the organ, but there’s a practical reason as well. Placing the largest pipes of the organ in towers that are effectively outside the organ case saves a significant amount of space inside the case. Stop to think how much larger the Haarlem case would have to be if the 77 large pipes in the seventeen towers were all crammed inside.

The case of the Haarlem organ is a wonderful example of what came to be called Werkprinzip in the revival of classic organbuilding during the twentieth century.  Simply put, Werkprinzip means that the appearance of the organ reflects its basic tonal structure. In the classic Bauhaus-style organ (the stereotypical Holtkamp organ, for example) we see the separate divisions clearly, enough that it’s possible to guess much of the stoplist by what you see from the pews. The Haarlem organ’s case doesn’t tell us whether the pedal Bourdon is wood or metal (while the Holtkamp often does!), but it does clearly show us the three manual divisions (Rugpositief, Bovenwerk, and Hoofdwerk) and the Pedaal division.

There are many photos of the Haarlem organ available on the Internet.  Here’s the best one I find today: <http://twomusic.home.xs4all.nl/christine/bavo/source/01bavo_haarlem.htm…;. Take a good look. There’s a lot going on there! At first look, you might think it’s a big rollicking rococo lollipop. But in fact, notwithstanding a lot of trumpeting and strumming angels, gold, and a couple huge lions, a lot of the design is “form follows function”—well settled in the eighteenth century—and it took until the twentieth century for Mies van der Rohe, Walter Gropius, and Le Corbusier to define it!

Architecture in Columbus, Indiana

The first internal combustion rotary engines were built in the late nineteenth century, using the highly refined petroleum distillate, gasoline, as fuel. The fuel is ignited by an electric spark in a cylinder, which pushes a piston away from the explosion. The linear motion of the piston is converted to rotary motion by the action of the piston shaft. In 1895, Rudolph Diesel invented the alternative internal combustion engine that still bears his name. The basic difference is that the fuel is ignited solely by heat generated by the compression of the fuel inside the cylinder. The total internal capacity of the cylinders is the “displacement,” which is a measure of an engine’s size. We refer to a 300-cubic-inch engine, or a 1,500-“CC” (cubic centimeters) engine—the cubic measurement being the displacement.

Diesel engines are heavier “per cubic inch” than gasoline engines, but in vehicles large enough that a little weight doesn’t matter, diesel engines are more efficient, and therefore more powerful “per cubic inch.”  

The Cummins Engine Company was founded in 1919 in Columbus, Indiana by Clessie Lyle Cummins. For the first ten years sales were pretty slow, but in 1929, Clessie Cummins executed the marketing idea of a lifetime by installing a diesel engine in a used Packard limousine and taking Columbus banker and investor
W. G. Irwin for a Christmas Day ride. Irwin injected tremendous capital into the firm, catapulting it toward becoming one of the major suppliers of engines to the American trucking industry.

J. Irwin Miller was W. G. Irwin’s nephew and second CEO of the Cummins Engine Company. Miller was a brilliant businessman who was devoted to modernist architecture. He instituted a program in Columbus, Indiana, through which the company would pay the architect’s fees for public buildings designed by architects selected from a list developed by Mr. Miller, a program that was later continued by the Cummins Engine Foundation. As a result of this unique and remarkable program, that town with 44,000 residents boasts a panoply of buildings designed by such modernist luminaries as Eero Saarinen, Eliel Saarinen, I.M. Pei, Robert Venturi, Cesar Pelli, and Harry Weese, among others. In one extraordinary neighborhood, there is a monumental bronze arch by British sculptor Henry Moore on the plaza in front of the I.M. Pei-designed public library, across the street from Eliel Saarinen’s First Christian Church.  

Throughout history, there are many examples of successful and innovative business leaders whose philanthropy through the arts created a lasting impact. We think of the Medici, Esterházy, and Mellon families as great patrons of the arts and builders of public buildings. The Rockefeller family has given us many important architectural masterpieces. But it seems improbable that a small town in rural Indiana could become an absolute museum of the best of modernist architecture.

Columbus is located about 35 miles south of Indianapolis, an easy drive from Cleveland, Cincinnati, Chicago, St. Louis, Nashville, and many other cities. The Visitor’s Center, which features large glassworks by Dale Chihuly, provides tours both guided and self guided (a map gives phone numbers one can call to hear descriptions of the various buildings). Several public schools, City Hall, medical clinics, fire stations, banks, newspaper offices, even the jail are all fantastic modernist buildings. Altogether there are more than 60 modernist buildings in town, six of which (built between 1942 and 1965) have been designated National Historic Monuments.

Take a look at the website <http://www.columbus.in.us/&gt; to get a quick idea of what the place is like, and take my word that it’s worth a trip to visit.  

Design inspiration

Leaf through the pages of Vanity Fair or The New Yorker magazine, and you’ll see dozens of advertisements for “designer wear.” It might be a dress by Versace that looks like a combination of a corn stalk and a chicken ($1,700) or a handbag covered with el-vees ($2,800), or a pair of shoes rejected by Lady Gaga (priceless!), but if it has a designer name it must be good. You see an advertisement for an “architect” house and assume it has no closets and the roof leaks (so that’s why they call it “Falling Water”). It seems we’re willing to pay a premium if there’s a fancy name attached to a product.

But good design is important to us. Louis Tiffany wrote, “God has given us our talents, not to copy the talents of others, but rather to use our brains and our imagination in order to obtain the revelation of True Beauty.”⁴ Tiffany’s eye for design gave us those gorgeous lampshades, magical dragonflies, stained glass daisies, and a broad range of spectacular liturgical windows.  

Stanford White inherited the magic of the late nineteenth-century version of the Romanesque arch from his mentor H. H. Richardson. It’s remarkable to compare the façades of White’s Tiffany house in New York to the H. H. Richardson rectory of Trinity Church, Boston (Clarendon and Newbury Streets). The big stone arch of the main entry is common to both houses. White traveled throughout Europe collecting architectural images so his buildings reflect a cross section of many centuries of style.

The fortune made by manufacturing diesel engines was converted into dozens of stylish and practical modernist buildings in a small midwestern town surrounded by farmlands. You have to see it to believe. Don’t miss it!

Classical pipe organs have combined ebullient decorative architecture with the dictates of the musical contents of the instrument.

Where in your life are you inspired by the unique imagination of a great designer?

Notes

1. David Garrard Lowe, Stanford White’s New York, Doubleday, 1992, p. 189.

2. Ibid., p. 127.

3. Ibid., p. 86.

4. Ibid., pp. 86–87.

Sarah Mahler Kraaz, DMA, is Professor of Music and Chair of the Department at Ripon College in Ripon, Wisconsin, where she teaches organ, piano, and music history, and directs the Collegium Musicum. She is an active composer and has performed recitals in the U.S.A., Scotland, and Italy. She is a frequent contributor of reviews and articles to The Diapason. Dr. Kraaz spent several weeks this spring researching and playing historic organs in Italy and Spain during a sabbatical leave.

  In a perfect world, we organists would always be able to play music on the instruments for which it was written. Putting music and organs from the same time and place together produces a beautiful synchronicity, the closest thing to time travel we can experience. Happily, this was recently my fate. What follows is a description of some music and instruments that have expanded my understanding of a particular musical tradition. They will continue to inform my performances.

On March 6, I played a recital of Italian music on the Vespers Series of the Giuseppe Gherardeschi Organ Academy in Pistoia (www.accademiagherardeschi.info). Pistoia is a small city in Tuscany approximately 30 miles northwest of Florence. The remains of a medieval wall circumscribe the old town whose Cathedral of San Zeno houses a silver altar dedicated to San Jacopo, thereby putting it on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. The cathedral, the former Bishop’s Palace, the Baptistry, and the Town Hall, all dating from the 13th–15th centuries, surround a central piazza that even today dominates the center of Pistoia. An open-air fruit and vegetable market, shops, restaurants, and cafes spread out from there in a web of narrow cobblestone streets. Wednesday and Saturday mornings are market days, when stalls appear in the centro selling everything from clothing to kitchenware. Bells from the many churches in the city mark the passage of time. Pistoia is off the beaten track for tourists. It’s a great place to visit if you want to mingle with Italians who live comfortably in the present while surrounded by the past. The city and neighboring towns are also home to a number of historic organs, most of them from the 18th and early 19th centuries.¹

Giuseppe Gherardeschi

A brief biography in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians² states that Gherardeschi was an organist, composer, and eventually maestro di cappella at the cathedral; except for a brief period of study in Naples, he spent his entire life in Pistoia. He began his musical studies with his father, Domenico (1733–1800), who was maestro di cappella at the cathedral, and continued with his uncle, Filippo Maria (1738–1808). The latter, also a Pistoia native, had been a pupil of Giovanni Battista (a.k.a. ‘Padre’) Martini³ in Bologna from 1756 to about 1761, when Filippo was admitted to the elite Accademia Filarmonica. Giuseppe completed his formal studies with Nicola Sala at the Conservatorio di Santa Maria della Pietà dei Turchini, one of three music conservatories in Naples. Upon returning to Pistoia, he married, fathered seven children, and became organist at the church of Santa Maria dell’Umiltà. When Domenico Gherardeschi died in 1800, Giuseppe inherited his position as maestro di cappella at the cathedral, a post he held until his death. In the tradition of the Bachs and Couperins and other families of musicians at the time, Giuseppe’s son, Luigi (1791–1871), and grandson, Gherardo (1835–1905), succeeded him. The Gherardeschi men all composed sacred vocal and instrumental music, much of which survives in the cathedral archives. Giuseppe did not confine himself to music for the church, however; five symphonies, all in the three-movement fast-slow-fast pattern favored by Giovanni Battista Sammartini and other 18th-century Italian composers, survive, as do numerous arias, chamber music, and oratorios.⁴

Umberto Pineschi’s edition of 

Gherardeschi’s organ works

That we know anything at all about the life and music of Giuseppe
Gherardeschi—and consequently, about the contemporary Tuscan organ—is due to the almost single-handed efforts of Umberto Pineschi. Organist, teacher, scholar, founder of the Gherardeschi Organ Academy, and now in “retirement” Director of the Scuola Comunale di Musica e Danza “Teodulo Mabellini” in Pistoia, Pineschi has worked tirelessly to locate, preserve, and restore organs in and around Pistoia. He edited the organ works of Gherardeschi for publication beginning in 1978. The first collection was followed by a second, third, and fourth, but as he confesses in the foreword to the newest edition (in Musiche Pistoiesi per Organo, published by the Fondazione Accademia di Musica Italiana per Organo in 2009), there was “no organized plan, since every time only the pieces considered interesting at the moment were selected.” Further, he adds, “Their context, often crucial for their understanding, was not taken in[to] account. Such a fragmented presentation of the Gherardeschi organ works did not allow one to fully appreciate both their lesson on the Pistoiese organ and the artistic relevance of the composer.”⁵ Pineschi here refers to the symbiotic relationship between organ music and the instruments for which it was written, in this case Pistoiese organs of the 18th and early 19th centuries. These deficiencies are addressed in the new edition, which is the basis for the discussion that follows.  

The present volume brings together all of Gherardeschi’s known compositions for organ, including some that have never been published. The pieces appear in the same order as in the manuscripts. Pineschi identifies several groupings by genre: 1. Sonatas; 2. Masses in C and D (Offertorio, Elevazione, and Postcommunio) and a Mass in E-flat that has versets for alternatim performance with the Ordinary; 3. Collections of versets; 4. Miscellaneous short pieces, including a colorful Sonata per organo a guisa di banda militare che suona una Marcia, two pastorales, and a fugue in G minor. Each piece has been assigned an opus number (a P followed by a number). Strict classification according to this scheme is impossible, however, since two of the sonatas (P.IV [1787]) are rondos and a number of the Mass movements (the Elevazione in D, P.I,5; the Offertorio in C, P.I,7) are sonatas. Elements of secular genres, including the concerto, aria, and symphony, also define and shape these pieces in a manner surely intended to entertain as well as sanctify the listeners.

Since the purpose of this article is to present an overview, rather than a comprehensive discussion, of Gherardeschi’s works, representative examples from each of the categories above will highlight important stylistic features of the music and the organs for which they were written, beginning with the sonatas. These all conform to the binary form and tonal design of the 18th-century keyboard sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti and others.

Offertorio, Mass in C: 

a representative work

The Offertory in an organ Mass is generally longer and more elaborate than other movements because it provides music during the preparation of the Eucharist. Gherardeschi takes advantage of these large dimensions by writing the Offertorio from the Mass in C as a sonata. The movement begins assertively with strong tonic chords in the left hand against clearly articulated right-hand rhythms in a 4-bar phrase. This antecedent phrase is answered by a consequent phrase in a reduced texture and registration, much like a dialogue between the tutti and solo parts of a concerto (Example 1). Indeed, Gherardeschi’s registration directions support this impression: initially, he calls for ‘[ri-]pieno con Trombe (trumpet)’ and ‘Timp[ano]’ in the pedal, which would be the equivalent of a full orchestra. The second phrase is labeled ‘p[ieno] senza ripieno [i.e., without the Trombe] e senza ped[ale]’. Without the trumpet (soloist) and pedal + timpani, the effect is of an echo. This alternation continues throughout both sections of the Offertorio. The texture is open, treble-dominated, and non-contrapuntal; occasional octaves in the manuals add a bit of dramatic emphasis at times. Harmonically, the music is predictable, with the first (A) section ending in the dominant key of G major. The B section opens in G minor, however, and moves to d, a, and F before returning via the dominant G to C.  

The energy, rhythmic drive, clear tonal design, and concerted style of the Offertorio reveal how steeped
Gherardeschi was in the music of Corelli, Vivaldi, and Sammartini. Written at the end of the 18th century, as Vienna and Paris were eclipsing Italy in the development of instrumental music, these pieces remind the listener of the connections among the various schools.

The concerto and symphony are not the only models for this music, however. Pineschi observes that the influence of opera and the theatre is clear in the Masses: “Indeed, the Offertori show the influence of the overture, the Elevazioni and the Benedizioni that of the romanza, while the Postcommunio echoes the always attractive spirit of the cabaletta; all, however, display whimsy, balanced proportions, and, above all, good taste.”⁶  

In fact, two of the three Masses in the collection, those in D and C, consist of exactly these movements, that is, Offertorio-Elevazione-Postcomunio. In modern usage, these may stand alone or be played in concert as a group of fast-slow-fast movements. The remaining Mass, in E-flat, is more complex because of versetti that alternate with chant. The Table of Mass movements summarizes the shape and content of the Messa in Elafá. One observes immediately the variety of tempos, meters, and registrations Gherardeschi uses in the versetti. The last aspect is the most important, for it tells us a great deal about the late 18th-century and early 19th-century Tuscan organ in general and the Pistoiese organ in particular. In this regard, the Mass resembles the other sets of versetti in the collection, all of which specify different stops as solos or in combinations.  

Registration

Gherardeschi frequently calls for “organo aperto” in his music. This means the complete Ripieno (Principale 8′, Ottava 4′, Decimaquinta 2′, Decimanona 11⁄3′, and two or three high-pitched ranks combined, the Vigesima seconda e sesta [1′, 2⁄3′] or seconda, sesta e nona [1′, 2⁄3′, ½′]), plus the Trombe (trumpet) 8′ and Cornetto.⁷ This combination, the equivalent of a full organ without flute stops, produces a clear and brilliant but not overpoweringly loud sound. “Pieno” refers to the complete or partial (i.e., 8′, 4′, 2′) Ripieno (Gherardeschi does not specify which). All the other combinations in the Messa call for specific principal and ‘da concerto’, i.e., solo, stops, including some divided stops (Musetto treble 8′; Clarone bass 4′; Trombe bass 8′). Stops divided between bass and treble registers have been a feature of Italian organs since at least 1664, when the Flemish Jesuit, Willem Hermans, built an organ for the church of Sant’Ignazio di Loyola (known in later times as “Spirito Santo” and since 1 February 2011, again as Sant’Ignazio) in Pistoia.⁸ They are advantageous on a small organ. In Pineschi’s words, “Gherardeschi’s clever use of the divided stops allows one to casually move from the bass section of the keyboard to the treble section and the other way round in such a way that the listener has no time to realize that.”⁹ He might have added that Gherardeschi must have possessed uncommon dexterity, given the lack of mechanical aids for registration changes and the fact that many of these occur in the middle of a piece. Perhaps he employed an assistant, maybe his son Luigi as organist-in-training. Pineschi suggests that these directions to change or add divided stops (which always occur at cadence points) reflect spontaneous changes made by Gherardeschi when he was improvising, as experienced organists did; the written version is for organists who were not as skilled or experienced in the art of improvisation.¹⁰

Of course, Gherardeschi’s registrations reflect and reinforce the character of individual versetti in the Messa; rhythms, tempos, and styles complete the picture. The first and last Gloria verses are of particular interest because they are cast as marches in duple meter with an abundance of dotted rhythms, repeated chords, triadic openings, trumpet-like solo lines, and liberal use of a “special effect” Timpano stop (from two to six wooden pipes, out of tune in such a way as to give a kettle-drum effect, operated by a pedal played by the right foot). The first Gloria verse begins with a fanfare in the manual accompanied by pedal and Timpano. In measure 5, another special effect (also played with the right foot), the Usignoli (Nightingale) stop, appears alternately with the timpani to simulate the trills of a clarinet¹¹ (Example 2a). Marches, whether for military bands or in concert music, were a common and popular musical genre in the 18th century.¹² As such, they connoted heroism, vigor, cheerfulness, and manliness.¹³ Gherardeschi was not the first composer to set the “Et in terra pax” couplet to a march; François Couperin had done that 100 years earlier in his Messe pour les couvents.¹⁴ Undoubtedly, the triumphal, affirmative nature of the text is a determining factor in the choice of musical style, but in the Messa there is more to the matter. Napoleon invaded Italy in 1790, defeating the Austrian army. The next 15 years were tumultuous ones in all the regions of the Italian peninsula, when French-initiated political and social reforms met with strenuous opposition from many Italians and the Church. The return of Austrian rule in 1815 after the Congress of Vienna, repressive as it was, was hailed as a return to order and normality.¹⁵ Gherardeschi composed his music against this backdrop of political turbulence amid constant reminders of a military presence. The Sonata . . . a guisa di banda militare even includes the “Janissary style” derived from Turkish military bands, a type of march in which cymbals, bass drum, and triangle are implied in the instrumentation (Example 2b, see page 28). Marches figured prominently in operas, symphonies,¹⁶ and secular keyboard music in the late 18th century, so it is not surprising to find them in organ music as well.

Versetti

In the preface of this volume, Pineschi lists the versetti as a third group after the sonatas and Masses. These works, though individually brief, are the most numerous and perhaps the most important for what they tell us about the Pistoiese organ of the time. There are two types of versetti, distinguished by their registrations. Versetti a pieno require the
[ri-]pieno, or full, sound, with only a tempo indicated at the beginning (the registration is implied) (Example 3a); versetti concertati require use of the ‘da concerto’ stops and have specific registrations provided at the beginning of each piece (Example 3b). From these, we learn the tonal design of the organs for which
Gherardeschi wrote his music.¹⁷ The ‘da concerto’ versetti are also labeled ‘solenni’, referring to their intended liturgical use in the Mass or other services, especially the Office of Vespers (e.g., the Magnificat). Versetti are written in all eight psalm tones, as one would expect. Interestingly, the versetti a pieno, P.II, are only figured basses; the organist must realize them in performance. Obviously this Baroque musical shorthand was still proving useful at the beginning of the 19th century.

Organs

Specifications for four organs that
Gherardeschi would have known appear in the preface to the Opere per organo. The first, by Hermans, was the prototype for the rest, which were built in the 1780s and ’90s by Antonio and Filippo Tronci and Pietro Agati. These instruments have been preserved and restored in Pistoia and Lucca. A similar organ built by Luigi and Benedetto Tronci in 1793 has been in the Cathedral in Pistoia since Pineschi rescued it from the chapel of the Rucellai villa, Campi Bisenzio (a small town between Prato and Florence), in 1998.  This is the instrument I played every day for five days in preparation for the Vespers performance. It is, amazingly, in its original condition. The specifications are as follows (For photos and audio clips of the Hermans and Tronci organs, visit The Diapason website,
Diapason.com>.):

Ripieno stops

Principale 8′ (first eight pipes are wood and play without drawing a stop because they are placed on a separate chest; the remaining pipes are tin, with C2 the major pipe of the façade)¹⁸

Ottava 4′

Decimaquinta 2′

Decimanona 11⁄3′

Vigesima seconda e sesta (1′, 2⁄3′)

‘Da concerto’ stops

Flauto 4′ (from C2)

Cornetto I (soprano 4′, 13⁄5′)

Cornetto II (soprano 22⁄3′)

Voce languente (the same as the Voce umana, soprano 8′)

Special effects: Timpano, Usignoli

Manual compass: 47 notes, C1–D5 with short octave at the bottom)

Pedals: eight notes (C–G), short octave, always coupled to manual

Divided registers between E3 and F3

As other writers have observed, having the ranks of the ripieno available as single stops (rather than as a multi-rank mixture stop) presents a multitude of registrational choices, many of which are subtly different. I enjoyed getting to know the sounds of all the stops individually and in various combinations. The Tronci keyboard has a uniform and light touch perfectly suited to the lively, graceful lines of 18th-century music. Using the short octave on both manual and pedal requires re-patterning of both cognitive and muscle memory. (What usually feels like a fifth is now a second, for example.) The short pedals are also quite different; one hardly needs organ shoes to play them, since only toes are used—heels remain on the floor. To sum up, playing an instrument like this, so different from a modern organ, requires total concentration, since all the senses—visual, auditory, kinesthetic—are involved in sometimes unfamiliar ways.

I hope this brief introduction—to the music of a composer who, in his own lifetime, was well known and highly respected in Tuscany, and to one of the organs he could have known—will encourage interest in both topics. This delightful, lively, and lovely music deserves to be better known on this side of the Atlantic. At present, the Opere per organo is only available from the editor, Umberto Pineschi, at . It is well worth the effort to obtain the book.