Remembering Richard Rephann

Andrew Scanlon

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

 

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Did you audition anywhere else besides Eastman?

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

 

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

No, that didn’t occur to me! 

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

How many students were studying organ then?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Can you remember your degree recitals?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

It didn’t exist! 

 

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

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

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

 

Were there other organ teachers?

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Would you care to elaborate?

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

When did you ultimately attempt the Fellowship exam? 

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

 

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

There are a number of reasons:

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Have there been still more recent developments?

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

Realizing that you could retire, what keeps you going?

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

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

 

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

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

 

What else would you like to say?

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

 

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

John Collins

In 2015 there are several composers whose anniversaries can be commemorated, albeit some of the dates are not known for certain; some of the names need no introduction but there are also several lesser-known names listed here whose compositions are well worth exploring. No claim is made for completeness and there is no guarantee that every edition is in print—there may well also be editions by other publishers.

 

Christopher Gibbons (1615–76).Eldest surviving son of Orlando Gibbons, he was organist of the Chapel Royal and Westminster Abbey; only a few compositions for keyboard survive in various manuscripts, comprising two short pieces (corrente and saraband) for harpsichord, four verses or voluntaries and three verses or double voluntaries (i.e. requiring two manuals for their execution), with passages for solos on Cornet, Sesquialtera, and Trumpet. Some versions of these double voluntaries seem to have been considerably amended and elongated by the scribe. All nine pieces have been re-edited by John Caldwell for American Institute of Musicology’s Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series (CEKM 18). 

 

Spiridionis a Monte Carmelo (1615–85). German organist, who traveled widely in Belgium, Germany, and Prague before taking a position in Bamberg in 1664. He composed sacred music and also published a two-volume keyboard tutor, Nova instructio pro pulsandis organis, spinettis, manuchordiis, in Bamberg, of which the first part, which appeared in 1670, contained a very large number of cadences, 35 canzonas, and 15 dances including corrente, and the second part, which appeared the following year, contains mainly cadenzas, as well as ten canzonettas, seven toccatinas, two gagliardas, and four corrente. Part three contains more formulas for cadentiae followed by ligaturae and trilli; part four contains the actuarium for parts one and two, an aria, allemanda, sarabanda, and modus variandi. A modern edition by Edoardo Bellotti of parts one and two has been published by Andromeda. Parts three and four have also been edited by Bellotti and published by Il Levante, obtainable via La Stanza della Musica, Rome (www.lastanzadellamusica.com).

 

Gregorio Strozzi (ca. 1615–after 1687). Organist in Naples and doctor in both civil and canon law, in addition to sacred works he left a Capricci da sonare cembali et organi, published in open score in Naples in 1687, which is indebted to Trabaci, Mayone, and Frescobaldi, its 31 pieces covering the main compositional genres of the time including three capriccios, three ricercatas, three sonatas, four toccatas, two balletti, three gagliardas, three sets of variations, eight correntes, a mascara, and a Toccata de passacagli. This important print has been re-edited by Barton Hudson for American Institute of Musicology in the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series (CEKM 11).

 

Heinrich Bach (1615–92). Great uncle of Johann Sebastian and organist in Arnstadt, almost all of his compositions in various genres have unfortunately been lost. He was the father of Johann Christoph and Johann Michael Bach, who also became composers. For keyboard he left a Chaconne in A, edited by Laura Cerutti for Armelin, and two chorale preludes, on Erbarm dich mein and Da Jesu an dem Kreuze stund, included in Organ Works by the Bach Family, edited by Diethard Hellmann for Edition Peters.

 

Tarquinio Merula (ca. 1594–1665). Organist and violinist active mainly in Cremona, he published a number of sacred concertos, Mass and psalm settings, as well as madrigals and ensemble canzonas. Fourteen keyboard works have survived in manuscripts, including a chromatic Capriccio and Sonata, the former based on the chromatic tetrachord, the latter on a figure covering a major ninth by semitone (!), although many subsequent entries are limited to the tetrachord. There are three intonazioni cromatiche (which may well be incorrectly attributed), a toccata (which contains a fugal section sandwiched between sections akin to Merula’s toccatas but lacking his inventiveness), a capriccio with an insistent rhythmic figure and much sequential writing, and five canzonas, of which the first, an arrangement of his ensemble piece La Loda, has basic similarities to the capriccio, and the second is based on an intriguing sequence of four descending broken triads. The next three canzone have been attributed tentatively to Merula, no. 3 being a version of his ensemble Canzona La Marca. All of these pieces together with a cromatica by Soncino and a  canzona by Fasolo have been edited by Alan Curtis and published by L’Organo, Brescia, as Monumenti di Musica Italiana Series 1, Organo e Cembalo, vol. 1, available from Armelin. There is also a reprint by Kalmus, which lacks the introduction. 

 

Wolfgang Ebner (1612–1665). Organist of St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna, and court organist, contemporary with Froberger. Three works certainly by him include three toccatas, a courante, a Capriccio sopra L’aria Pergamasco, the Partite sopra l’Aria Favorita with seven variations, and the 36 variations divided into three groups of 12 (the second and third groups being in the form of a courante and sarabande) on an Aria in A Minor composed by Ferdinand III. Works of uncertain authenticity include 56 versets encompassing various forms (i.e. toccata, capriccio, fugue in the eight church modes), eight of which are variants of pieces by Froberger and one by Frescobaldi, two preludes, a partita in A, and eight individual dance movements. Published by Bärenreiter in 2 volumes, edited by Siegbert Rampe, the publication also includes keyboard works by Georg Muffat. 

 

Nikolaus Bruhns (1665–97). Pupil of Buxtehude, he became organist in Husum in 1689. Comparatively well known to players today, particularly for his preludes in E minor, Bruhns was also a highly skilled violinist who, according to undoubtedly reliable contemporary accounts, accompanied his violin playing at the organ by a bass played with great dexterity on the pedals. None of his organ works were printed in his lifetime, and no autograph manuscripts have survived. His small opus survived in a virtually unbroken transmission in both manuscripts of the 18th century and printed editions from the 19th forward. He wrote chamber music, which regrettably has not survived, and 12 cantatas, and left four brilliant praeludia for organ in manuscripts—multi-sectional, and clearly showing the influence of his teacher as well as echo devices. A highly ornamented Chorale Fantasia on Nun komm der Heiden Heiland also shows continuation of the North German tradition of Scheidemann, Reincken, and Tunder. Modern editions, which also include an adagio and a praeludium, of which only fragments survive, have been prepared by Klaus Beckmann, published by Schott in the series Masters of the North German School vol. 13, and also edited by Harald Vogel for Breitkopf & Hartel.

 

Johann Hanff (1665–1712). Organist in Hamburg and Schleswig, only three of his cantatas and six chorale preludes survive in manuscripts. Five of the preludes are in a similar style to Buxtehude’s, with highly ornamented melodies in the right hand, but in Erbarm dich mein two verses are set, the second verse opening with a fugue based on the descending chromatic fourth before reverting to a right hand solo of the ornamented melody. They have been edited by Ewald Kooiman for Harmonia Uitgave, Incognita Organo Part 7. 

 

Johann Fischer (ca. 1665–1746). Kapellmeister to Ludwig Wilhelm of Baden, he published chamber and vocal music. His keyboard works include four sets of pieces, comprising two sets of suites for harpsichord/clavichord in 1696 and 1738, which show the French influence, and two sets of pieces for the organ, which show a more Italianate influence. Musikalischer Blumenstrauss of 1732 is a collection of pieces on the eight tones comprising a praeludium, six fugues, and finale for each tone. Ariadne Musica, of 1702 and 1715, contains 20 short preludes and fugues, each in a different key (including B, E-flat, and A-flat major, B, F#, and C# minor), which were known to J. S. Bach, who used some of the subjects in his Well-Tempered Clavier, and five ricercars on hymns for Advent, Christmas, Quadragesima, Passiontide, and Easter. 

The complete keyboard music has been edited by Ernst von Werra for Breitopf & Hartel. The Ariadne has been edited by Ernst Kaller for Schott as Liber Organi vol. 7 and the Musikalischer Blumenstrauss by Rudolph Walter for Musikverlag Alfred Coppenrath, Altötting as Süddeutsche Orgelmeister des Barock vol. 1, available through Carus Verlag. Facsimile editions have been published by Broude Bros in the Performers’ Facsimiles series nos. 197 (Ariadne) and 199 (Musikalischer Blumenstrauss). 

Johann Molter (1696–1765). German organist in Eisenach and Karlsruhe whose comprehensive works embrace all genres. Six chorale arrangements have been edited by Siegbert Rampe for Bärenreiter in German Organ and Keyboard Music from Bach’s Period.

 

Xarava y Bruna (ca. 1640–1715).Nephew of Pablo Bruna. Two pieces by him, an Ydea Vuena por a la mi re and fuga, and an Obra en lleno de 3 Tono (a tiento accidental found in the Jaca manuscript is a short version of the fuga), are to be found in one of the Martín y Coll manuscripts, and have been edited by Julian Sagasta for Union Musical Española in Tonos de Palacio y Canciones Communes vol. 2, and by Carlo Stella and Vittorio Vinay for Zanibon in Composizioni Inedite dal ‘Flores de Musica’ di Antonio Martin y Coll. 

 

Georg Wagenseil (1715–77). Organist and composer to the court in Vienna, he composed operas, chamber music, concerti, and organ and harpsichord music. Although considered as one of the most important Viennese composers of the 18th century, very few of his many keyboard works have been published, and conspicuous by their absence are the organ works, including 97 versets in various tones, a cycle of Praeambula and Versets on the Eight Tones, and numerous other individual pieces. Five pieces have been edited by Erich Benedikt and included in Viennese Organ Music from around 1750 published by Doblinger as DM1335 in the Diletto Musicale series, including a praeludium on the 1st and on the 2nd tones, a Fuga in D Minor, a piece titled Das Glockengeläut zu Rom dem Vatican (in C minor), and an Andante in D minor taken from the third Divertimento of opus 1, better perhaps suited to stringed keyboard instruments. 

 

James Nares (1715–83). Became organist of York Minster in 1735. In addition to much sacred music including services and secular vocal music, he left several publications for keyboard including two sets of lessons for harpsichord and a set of six fugues with introductory voluntaries for organ or harpsichord, which are available in a modern edition by Greg Lewin as well as in facsimile from Oxford University Press. Only nos. 1, 3, and 5 are preceded by an introduction. Also available in facsimile from Oxford University Press is Il Principio, or A Regular Introduction to Playing on the harpsichord or Organ, which gives basic information on ornamentation and fingering followed by a graduated series of pieces.

 

Georg Reichardt (1715–89). Pupil of Jakob Adlung. His Sechs fugierte Orgeltrios have been edited by Rudolph Walter for Hänssler Verlag and are available from Carus Verlag. 

Charles-Joseph van Helmont (1715–90). Organist in Brussels, he composed a large quantity of sacred vocal music including Masses and motets and a much smaller amount of secular vocal music. His keyboard works comprise the Pièces de clavecin of 1737, which include two suites, the pieces of which have French titles. The first suite and four fugues have been edited by J. Watelet and published by Vereniging voor Muziekgeschiedenis te Antwerpen in 1948 as Monumenta Musicae Belgicae vol. 6 (also contains pieces by Dieudonné Raick), with the second set edited by Laura Cerutti for Armelin, with a facsimile edition published by Anne Fuzeau. The complete set of Six Fugues has been edited by Jan Vanmol for Calcant.

 

Johann Doles (1715–97). Pupil of Bach in Leipzig, where he became Kantor, he composed much sacred and secular vocal music, harpsichord sonatas, and some chorale preludes, of which four pieces from the fifth volume of Singbare und leichte Choralvorspiele has been edited by Eberhard Hofmann for Musica Rinata in Orgelpräludien vom Barock zur Klassik. 

 

John Alcock Sr. (1715–1806). Organist at Lichfield Cathedral from 1750 until 1765, and thereafter at Sutton Coldfield and Tamworth, he composed sacred choral music, numerous secular vocal works, Six Suites of Easy Lessons and a Trumpet Tune for the harpsichord, which has been edited by Richard Jones and published by the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, as Easier Piano Pieces (vol. 15), and a set of Ten Voluntaries for the Organ or Harpsichord, a new edition of which has been edited and published by Greg Lewin.

 

Carlmann Kolb (1703–65). Organist of the community of Asbach and priest, he left a sinfonia for harpsichord and strings and the Certamen aonium published in 1733, a set of pieces on the eight tones, including a fairly expansive prelude, 3 fugal verses in a variety of styles and meters, and a toccata-like cadenza. Some of the preludes, particularly the third, are almost extravagantly eccentric in their modulations and dramatic rests. Modern editions by Rudolf Walter for Musikverlag Alfred Coppenrath, Altötting as Süddeutsche Orgelmeister des Barock vol. 5, available through Carus Verlag, and by Gregor Klaus for Willy Müller Süddeutscher Musikverlag, available from Bärenreiter.

 

Jose Ferrer (1745–1815). Organist in various Spanish cathedrals, including Oviedo, he composed mainly secular and chamber music. Seven sonatas for keyboard by him are preserved in a manuscript now in Zaragoza, and a further six have been attributed to him on stylistic grounds, although as no. 8 is by Domenico Scarlatti, it may well be that further pieces are by other composers. Many of the sonatas are far better suited to stringed keyboard instruments but nos. 9–11 sound well on the organ. All 13 sonatas have been edited as Sonatas para Clave by Dionisio Preciado and published by Real Musical, Madrid, as Teclado Espanol Siglo XVIII, vol. 1. No. 2 in G minor and a further Sonata in C Minor, both taken from MS 1665 at Montserrat, are included in Early Spanish keyboard music: an anthology—Vol. 3, The eighteenth century, edited by Barry Ife and Roy Truby for Oxford University Press.

 

Pietro Morandi (1745–1815). After studying with Padre Martini in Bologna he worked in Pergola and Senigallia cathedrals. He composed sacred and secular vocal and damatic music and also left 12 Concerti per L’Organo solo, with instructions for registration, and twenty sonatas and sinfonias, all of which have been edited in four volumes by Maurizio Machella for Armelin. 

 

Giuseppe Gherardeschi (1759–1815). Organist in Pistoia, first of S. Maria dell Umiltà and then the cathedral, he composed much sacred vocal music and several sonatas for harpsichord or fortepiano plus violin and also concerti. His numerous organ compositions, which include versetti, offertorios, elevazioni, sonatas, and rondos, contain precise instructions for registration, including drum pedals and toy stops such as the Uccello. Many have been edited by Umberto Pineschi in Musiche pistoiesi per organo (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. M05 and M06), Antologia del Settecento organistico pistoiese (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. 19), Musiche d’organo a Pistoia (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. 30); Letteratura organistica toscana dal XVII al XIX secolo (Accademia di musica italiana per organo, Pistoia). Some twenty pieces have been edited by Maurizio Machella in two volumes for Armelin as L’organo Italiano nell’Ottocento (OIO 222 and OIO 223). An official download of Gherardeschi’s complete organ works, together with many other pieces from the Pistoia cathedral archives, is available from www.accademiagherardeschi.it/eng-partiture.php?id_sezione=6 for a payment of 10 Euros.

 

Domenico Puccini (1772–1815). organist in Lucca and grandfather of the famous opera composer, he composed both sacred and secular vocal music, as well as operas. He left 42 one-movement sonatas for organ in manuscripts, which have been edited in four volumes by Maurizio Machella for Armelin. A further volume contains sonatas for violin with accompaniment for organ or fortepiano. 

An increasing number of pieces, ranging from complete original publications/manuscripts (which present the usual problems of multiple clefs as well as original printer’s errors) to modern versions of complete or individual works, are to be found on various free download sites, most noticeably IMSLP; however, the accuracy of some modern typesettings is highly questionable, and all should be treated with caution before use. 

 

Publishers’ websites 

American Institute of Musicology—CEKM series:
www.corpusmusicae.com/cekm.htm 

Armelin: www.armelin.it

Associated Board: shop.abrsm.org

Bärenreiter: www.baerenreiter.com  

Breitkopf & Hartel:  www.breitkopf.com  

Broude Bros: www.broude.us 

Calcant: www.janvanmol.be 

Carus Verlag: www.carus-verlag.com 

Doblinger Verlag: www.doblinger-verlag.at

Fuzeau: www.editions-classique.com     

Greg Lewin Music: www.greglewin.co.uk

Monumenta Musicae Belgicae: www.dbnl.org 

Musica Rinata: www.berliner-chormusik-verlag.de

OUP: ukcatalogue.oup.com/category/music.do 

Schott Music: www.schott-music.com 

Larry Palmer

The Diapason’s Harpsichord Editor since 1969, Larry Palmer is author of the pioneering book, Harpsichord in America: A Twentieth-Century Revival, published by Indiana University Press in 1989 (paperback second edition, 1993). Of six international advisors for the Berlin commemoration, two were Americans: Teri Noel Towe (New York) and Palmer (Dallas). Poster and postcard images for the exhibition featured an anonymous caricature belonging to Palmer, the gift of Momo Aldrich, first secretary to the iconic Landowska.

The Power of the Press:
“A Living Legend”
Nicholas Slonimsky (1894–1995), writing about harpsichordist Wanda Landowska for the French journal Disques in 1932, introduced his subject with a three-stanza poem. It begins:

Her fingers on the cembalo
Type out the polyphonic lore
Of Bach’s Inventions—and restore
The true original edition
Unobfuscated by tradition.1
Twelve years later, on the opposite side of the Atlantic, habitually cranky New York music critic Virgil Thomson (1896–1989), reviewed the Polish harpsichordist’s Town Hall concert of 20 November 1944 under the adulatory headline “Definitive Renderings”:

Wanda Landowska’s harpsichord recital of last evening . . . was as stimulating as a needle shower. . . . She played everything better than anybody else ever does. One might almost say, were not such a comparison foolish, that she plays the harpsichord better than anybody else ever plays anything . . .
. . . [Her] playing of the harpsichord . . . reminded one all over again that there is nothing else in the world like it. There does not exist in the world today, nor has there existed in my lifetime, another soloist of this or any other instrument whose work is so dependable, so authoritative, and so thoroughly satisfactory. From all the points of view—historical knowledge, style, taste, understanding, and spontaneous musicality—her renderings of harpsichord repertory are, for our epoch, definitive. Criticism is unavailing against them, has been so, indeed, for thirty years.2
It seems that the divine Wanda had accomplished her objective, half a century in the making, of restoring the harpsichord to a recognized place in the cultural consciousness of music lovers, both in Europe and in the western hemisphere. Her personal style, based on an innate rhythmic certainty, a turn-of-the-century impressionistic use of tonal color, and, not incidentally, her careful perusal of historical source materials had made her name virtually synonymous with the word harpsichord, at least in the collective consciousness of the public.

True Believers:
Expatriated European and Native American Disciples
Landowska’s acolytes dominated those American venues where harpsichords were played: Alice Ehlers (1887–1981), Professor Landowska’s first student in 1913 Berlin, immigrated to the United States and taught for 26 years at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. Among Ehlers’s fascinating oral history recorded vignettes she noted that Landowska did not talk much in those early lessons, but she relied heavily on playing for her students. Later, in Ehlers’s own teaching, at least one anecdote retold by her student Malcolm Hamilton (1932–2003) showed that Ehlers was less than impressed at his derivative details copied from Landowska’s style. When Hamilton added an unwritten trill to the subject of a Bach fugue Ehlers stopped him to ask why. “I heard a recording by Wanda Landowska,” he began. Madame Ehlers interrupted brusquely, “Wanda Landowska was a genius. You and I, Malcolm, we are not geniuses—‘spaacially you!”3
Two more Landowska students holding American academic posts were Marie Zorn (b. 1907?), who promoted the Landowskian style in her harpsichord teaching at Indiana University from 1958 until 1976, and Putnam Aldrich (1904–1975), who married Wanda’s own personal secretary Madeleine Momot in 1931 (with a somewhat-reconciled Landowska as witness for the bride). Eventually “Put” settled his young family in northern California, where he established a prestigious doctoral program in early music at Stanford University.
In concert halls, Madame’s final brilliant students, Rafael Puyana (born 1931), a South American of blazing virtuosity, and Texas-born Paul Wolfe (born 1929), both built solo careers in the decade following their teacher’s death.
In 1961 Puyana played a concert at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New York, during my first year there as a doctoral student. Rafael, the scion of a wealthy family, toured the country with a Pleyel harpsichord (the instrument of choice for Landowska’s students) and a personal driver. His Eastman recital was a dashing and colorful evocation of a Landowska program, including kaleidoscopic changes of registration; a repertoire firmly grounded in the major Bach works; but with at least one non-Landowska addition: his own harpsichord transcription of a Canción for piano by the Catalan composer Frederico Mompou.
Paul Wolfe, not from a moneyed family, set out to make his name through recordings. I came to know him when Nick Fritsch of Lyrichord Records decided to reissue a number of their 1950s vinyl issues on compact discs and asked me to write an introductory article explaining harpsichord pedals. Wolfe’s instruments—a 1907 Pleyel of wooden construct and a large concert instrument completed in 1958 by the young northeastern builders Frank Rutkowski and Richard Robinette—as well as programs that featured 17th-century works by Frescobaldi and the English virginalists, Spanish music, and all eight of the 1720 Handel Suites—presented both facile young fingers and an expanding repertory of early keyboard music to the American harpsichord scene.

A Contrarian’s View of Landowska
During the autumnal years of Landowska’s career, critics of her playing style were not legion. But one composer-critic who did not idolize the High Priestess of the Harpsichord was neo-classicist composer Robert Evett (1922–1975). In a 1952 piece for The New Republic, Evett wrote:

Mme. Landowska has seduced the brighter part of the American public into believing that she offers it an authentic reading of Bach and his predecessors. What this lady actually uses is a modern Pleyel harpsichord, an instrument that she employs as a sort of dispose-all. . . .
After fifteen years of incredulous listening, I am finally convinced that this woman kicks all the pedals in sight when she senses danger ahead. When she sits down to play a Bach fugue, I go through all the torments that a passenger experiences when he is being driven over a treacherous mountain road by an erratic driver, and when she finally finishes the thing it is almost a pleasure to relax into nausea.4
A Different Aesthetic:
Ralph Kirkpatrick
Ralph Kirkpatrick (1911–1984), funded by a post-graduate John Knowles Paine Traveling Fellowship from Harvard University, set off for Europe in the fall of 1931 to hone his harpsichord playing skills. As described in his memoirs,5 the pre-eminent American harpsichordist of his generation had a difficult relationship with the priestess of St-Leu, eventually running off to Berlin for coaching and consolation with another Landowska student, the more congenial Eta Harich-Schneider (1897–1986). Kirkpatrick’s public playing, beginning with concerts and recordings during the 1930s, sounded distinctly unlike Landowska’s in its conscious avoidance of excessive registration changes and its near-metronomic regularity. Teri Noel Towe’s description of Kirkpatrick’s style, printed as a “disclaimer” in the compact disc reissue of these early solo recordings for Musicraft Records, puts it this way:

Some listeners confuse Ralph Kirkpatrick’s tenacious and unswerving commitment to the composer’s intentions with dullness and mistake his exquisite attention to detail and technical accuracy for dryness. These detractors would do well to listen again. There is a special beauty and unique warmth to Kirkpatrick’s sometimes austere but always direct, ‘no nonsense’ performances; his interpretations are always superbly conceived, often transcendent, and occasionally hypnotic. . . .6
For a balanced evaluation of Kirkpatrick the harpsichordist, one needs to sample some later examples from his extensive discography. A 1959 Deutsche Grammophon Archiv recording of Bach played on a Neupert instrument presents quite another aural document of a decidedly non-austere artist. And by 1973 when I experienced Kirkpatrick’s deeply-moving playing of Bach’s Goldberg Variations at the Rothko Chapel in Houston (Texas), I reported in The Diapason that “Kirkpatrick played magnificently with a prodigious technical command of the work as well as with spacious feeling for the overall architecture . . .”7
At the very end of a more than five-decade career, and now totally blind, the aged master could allow his innate musical sensitivity to triumph. Despite his end-of-career tongue-in-cheek comments about preferring the piano, the Yale professor was the most highly regarded and recorded native harpsichordist in the United States during the period of Landowska’s American residency.
Other noted American players of Kirkpatrick’s generation included Yella Pessl (1906–1991) and Sylvia Marlowe (1908–1981). Marlowe’s first instrument was a true Landowska Pleyel, by this time painted white, the better to be seen on the revolving stage of New York City’s Rainbow Room, where Sylvia played jazz arrangements of classical favorites under the catchy rubric Lavender and New Lace. Deeply influenced by Landowska’s playing, encountered while the New Yorker was studying with Nadia Boulanger in Paris, Marlowe’s 1959 solo Bach recording for Decca demonstrates how much Madame’s long musical shadow dominated the American harpsichord scene.
Eventually Ms. Marlowe chose to play harpsichords built by the American maker John Challis, moving subsequently to those of Challis’s apprentice William Dowd (with lid-paintings by her own husband, the artist Leonid [Berman]). Non-night-club recital repertoire included 18th-century classics, soon augmented extensively by commissions to prominent living composers. Thus, important works by Ned Rorem and Elliott Carter, to cite only two, came into being through Marlowe’s sponsorship. Together with the impressive catalog of similar commissions from the Swiss harpsichordist Antoinette Vischer (1909–1973), Marlowe’s initiatives helped to provide the harpsichord with an extensive, new twentieth-century musical voice.
Influenced by Kirkpatrick during student days at Yale, Fernando Valenti (1926–1990) switched from piano to harpsichord, and also played important new works by Vincent Persichetti (that composer’s First Harpsichord Sonata composed in 1952) and Mel Powell (Recitative and Toccata Percossa). However, Valenti made his name primarily as the most exciting player of Domenico Scarlatti’s sonatas and specifically as the first harpsichordist to record such a large number of them—359 individual works performed on his Challis harpsichord in a series of albums for Westminster Records. In 1951 he was appointed the first harpsichord professor at New York’s Juilliard School. Several didactic books, published late in Valenti’s career, are as colorful and insightful as his playing. Who could resist a chuckle at words such as these?

Many years ago I promised myself that I would never put in print anything that even vaguely resembled a ‘method’ for harpsichord playing and this is it.8
One of the best-known harpsichordists to study privately with Valenti was Berlin-born Igor Kipnis (1930–2002), son of the prominent bass opera singer Alexander Kipnis. The family moved to the United States in 1938, where both Kipnises became familiar names in the classical music arena. Igor was particularly noted for his comprehensive and innovative repertory, recorded extensively. His playing was thoroughly representative of a more objective style of harpsichord performance.

Winds (or Strings and Quills) of Change?
One of the great services rendered by Kirkpatrick was his fervent advocacy for the historically inclined instruments of Frank Hubbard and William Dowd. As the years went by, these musical machines emulated ever more closely those from earlier centuries, albeit with some decidedly 20th-century materials, such as the plastics used for jacks and plectra. But with keyboards built to various baroque dimensions; sensitive, light actions; and registers deployed in a way that an 18th-century composer might have expected; together with the absence, for the most part, of the sixteen-foot register and pedals, these light and agile instruments gave the new generation of players sensitive tools for performing the music of the past. Emulating Hubbard and Dowd, a number of builders, in Boston and other American venues, and throughout the world, joined the “surge to the past,” and thereby changed both the dynamic and the expected sounds of harpsichord revival instruments.
Among Kirkpatrick’s allies in promoting these new “old” instruments were two Fullers—his student Albert (1926–2007) and the not-related David (born 1927), and harpsichordist/conductors Miles Morgan and William Christie. As the 1960s gave way to the 1970s, nearly every emerging teacher and player in the country seemed to be joining the pedal-less crowd. In 1966 I met Dr. Joseph Stephens and played the Hubbard and Dowd harpsichord in his Baltimore (Maryland) home. Shortly thereafter I ordered my own first Dowd double. It was delivered at the beginning of January 1969. As has happened for so many players in our small musical world, that sensitive instrument taught me as much as had the memorable hours spent studying with two of the finest teachers imaginable: Isolde Ahlgrimm (at the Salzburg Mozarteum), and Gustav Leonhardt (during two memorable July participations in his master classes at the annual Haarlem Summer Organ Academies).

Influential European
Artist-Teachers
Both of these superb artists made significant contributions to harpsichord playing in the United States: Ahlgrimm (1914–1995) through her teaching in Salzburg, Vienna, and during semester-long guest professorships at Oberlin and Southern Methodist University, as well as several American concert tours organized by managers, but aided and attended by her grateful students. Until recently, Ahlgrimm’s place in the story of the 20th-century harpsichord revival has been little celebrated. With the publication of Peter Watchorn’s major study Isolde Ahlgrimm, Vienna and the Early Music Revival,9 that deficiency in our history has been rectified!
Leonhardt (born 1928), surely the most recorded of post-Landowska harpsichordists, has influenced virtually every harpsichordist from the second half of the 20th-century forward. His students seem to be everywhere. Even the most cursory of enumerations would include many of the leading teachers in the U.S: Oberlin’s first full-time professor of harpsichord Lisa Crawford; Michigan’s Edward Parmentier; Boston’s John Gibbons; University of New York at Stony Brook’s Arthur Haas; Florida State’s Karyl Louwenaar; Illinois’ Charlotte Mattax; and, particularly during the 1970s and ’80s, my own large group of harpsichord major students at Southern Methodist University. In the spirit of the early music excitement of those decades, SMU conferred his first doctorate on Leonhardt in 1984, citing the Dutch harpsichordist’s advocacy of “performance on period instruments,” as well as his “commitment to both stylistic authority and artistic sensitivity in recreating music of the past.”
To this day, more than 25 years after the conferral of that honorary degree, Leonhardt still refers to me in communications as his “Doktor-Vater.” Whereas Ahlgrimm referred to herself as a biological phenomenon since she “got more children the older she became,” Leonhardt’s humorous salutation presents me with a similar phenomenon: the “son” as father to the “father.” At any rate, I am pleased to have Dr. Leonhardt as my most distinguished graduate!
Ah yes, students—the new generators of harpsichord playing in America. Too many to list, but perhaps one graced with multiple “A’s” may serve as representative—Andrew Appel, American, who completed his doctoral studies with Juilliard harpsichord professor Albert Fuller in 1983, and now carries on that line from his teacher, who had been a pupil of Ralph Kirkpatrick, who was . . . and here we could circle back to the beginning of this essay. May Andrew Appel represent the achievements of so many of our fine young players: the late Scott Ross, the with-it Skip Sempé, the sensitive Michael Sponseller, the delightful teaching colleague Barbara Baird—Americans, all!
Ultimately all of us are indebted to those European “explorers” who have provided our inspiration and training: French/English Arnold Dolmetsch, Austrian Isolde Ahlgrimm, Dutch Gustav Leonhardt: all contributors to the variety and richness of the harpsichord’s presence in our contemporary musical life. And our Polish mother, Wanda Landowska: that vibrant musician who has brought us together for this celebration of her musical legacy.

Some Information about Added Aural Examples
This paper was presented at the Berlin Musical Instrument Museum on November 14, 2009, during a symposium in conjunction with the exhibition Die Dame mit dem Cembalo [The Lady with the Harpsichord], in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of Wanda Landowska’s death. The topic was suggested by the museum’s curator Martin Elste, who organized the event. To remain within an imposed time limit, I chose to include only seven short recorded examples, each one a performance of the same final 25 measures from the third (Presto) movement of J. S. Bach’s Italian Concerto (BWV 971)—with an individual duration of between 30 and 40 seconds.
The first example demonstrated one of the most unforgettable of all my musical experiences: Landowska’s unexpected slight agogic hesitation between top and bottom notes of the climactic downward octave leap in measure 199, the last return of that wonderfully energetic opening theme. Taken from her 1936 recording for EMI [reissued in Great Recordings of the Century, CDH 7610082], it served as an aural measuring rod with which to compare the following recordings, made “after” Landowska.
Example Two presented the young Ralph Kirkpatrick playing his early 20th-century Dolmetsch-Chickering harpsichord, captured in a 1939 recording for Musicraft, digitized on Pearl [Great Virtuosi of the Harpsichord, volume II, GEMM CD 9245]. Example Three: Kirkpatrick again, 20 years later, recorded in a thrillingly theatrical performance played on a powerhouse Neupert instrument for Archiv [198 032] (LP).
Example Four: Sylvia Marlowe, like Landowska, played on an instrument by Pleyel, recorded in 1959 for Decca [DL 710012] (LP).
Example Five: Leading Bach authority Isolde Ahlgrimm, recorded 1975, playing her 1972 David Rubio harpsichord, recorded by Philips [6580 142] (LP).
Example Six: Gustav Leonhardt utilized the sound of an actual 18th-century historic instrument for his 1976 recording on a 1728 Hamburg harpsichord by Christian Zell. Seon [Pro Arte PAL-1025] (LP).
Example Seven: Andrew Appel played a 1966 harpsichord by Rutkowski and Robinette in his 1987 recording for Bridge Records [BCD 9005), concluding the musical examples in just under four minutes! Fortunately for the word-weary, the next, and final, presentation of the two-day seminar was given by British record collector extraordinaire Peter Adamson, comprising a fascinating sound and image survey of early harpsichord recordings.

 

Larry Palmer

Three-score and ten:

Celebrating Richard Kingston

Born June 6, 1947, Richard Kingston reaches his Biblical milestone of 70 years this month. Now he is widely celebrated as one of America’s most distinguished harpsichord makers, but when Richard and I both arrived in Dallas in 1970, the world was younger, and the harpsichord still quite exotic and unfamiliar to many musically inclined listeners. The circumstances of our meeting seem quite humorous in retrospect: Southern Methodist University’s music department secretary left a note in my campus mail box: “Some nut wants to talk to you about a harpsichord.” And yes, the “nut” turned out to be Richard. To celebrate Richard’s multi-faceted life and his many contributions to the visibility and viability of the historic harpsichord during our nearly 50 years of collaboration and friendship, I have solicited some comments from several of our mutual colleagues.

 

• Jan Worden Lackey was my first Master of Music in harpsichord performance student at Southern Methodist University. Of those bygone years, she writes:

 

There was much new in the music world in Dallas in the 1970s and much of it revolved around the harpsichord. A young professor had come to SMU to lead its new degree program. Soon after his arrival a young man who, at that time had completed only one instrument, opened a professional harpsichord-building shop. The faculty member was Larry Palmer; the builder, Richard Kingston. We three, together with some others, founded and served on the board of directors of the Dallas Harpsichord Society.

The city was ready for historic keyboards and early music. There was a lot of publicity for our events. The Dallas Morning News printed concert notices, reviews, and feature articles, as did other local publications, for there was considerable interest in these concerts, lectures, instruction possibilities, and instruments.

It soon became apparent that Richard Kingston was an excellent and talented builder of harpsichords who both knew the instrument’s history, and possessed the requisite technical skills and ears to produce beautiful-sounding instruments. As a frequent visitor to his shop I found him friendly, an interesting conversationalist, and one who was ever delighted to show his latest work.

A lasting memory is of an evening spent playing one of Richard’s early instruments: I had been asked to be the solo harpsichordist for the opening of an exhibition at the Dallas Museum of Fine Art. Richard moved and tuned one of his magnificent French double harpsichords for the occasion. Memorable was the enjoyment of being surrounded by beautiful art, music, and the instrument—all together producing something that, individually, would not have made such an impact.

After Richard closed his shop and moved away from Dallas I had no contact with him. A few years ago my husband and I were invited to dinner at the home of a Santa Fe colleague. Included at our table were Dr. Palmer and Richard, who was still the same delightful and interesting person, happily sharing conversation and stories.

After a decade of successful harpsichord building in Dallas, Richard followed some sage advice from George Lucktenberg, founder of the Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society, who suggested that North Carolina had much to offer a harpsichord maker: namely its tradition of fine furniture making. Thus it was that Kingston’s 100th instrument, begun in Dallas, was completed in Marshall, North Carolina. Continuing his investigations into what should comprise a composite “eclectic northern European double harpsichord,” Richard developed a prototype during his first two years in the Carolinas. Important new clients, new craftspeople, and the soundboard painter Pam Gladding became his colleagues. At the apex of his sales, he produced 19 instruments in 1987, 14 in 1989—the final “big years,” as he noted in his shop history notes.

A beloved friend and colleague encountered at many meetings of the Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society (SEHKS) was the late musical and graphic artist Jane Johnson, whose clever drawing celebrating the birth of Richard’s first son combines two of his major achievements of the 1980s: starting a family and continuing to produce instruments of technical brilliance and physical beauty. Jane’s witty announcement card is typical of her warm heart and steady hand.

During Richard’s first decade in the eastern United States I had very little contact with him. However, that changed considerably during the 1990s with our increasing number of collaborations during SMU’s summer harpsichord workshops at Fort Burgwin, the university’s idyllic property near Ranchos de Taos, New Mexico. Richard taught classes in maintenance and tuning and “well-tuned” his elegant instruments. The rustic annual gatherings were succeeded by meetings in Denver and Santa Fe during the first decade of the 21st century. 

 

• Another of my outstanding harpsichord students from the early years at SMU, Barbara Baird joined us as a workshop faculty member for many of the summer offerings. She writes of her Kingston memories: 

 

I first met Richard in 1974 when I moved to Fort Worth to teach harpsichord at Texas Christian University. Through the years he and I found ourselves working together in Taos and Denver at SMU summer harpsichord events. I have long admired Richard’s gifts as a builder, his easy-going manner with students and harpsichord enthusiasts, and his willingness to make harpsichords travel. He would load a half dozen instruments worth tens of thousands of dollars into the back of his van and drive across the Southwest to make these harpsichord programs possible. Fearless? Foolish? No: Delightful!

 

November 1991 found Kingston at Clayton State University (Morrow, Georgia), where their six-day Spivey International Harpsichord Festival included a harpsichord builders’ competition. Twelve American makers each brought an example of their craft. After careful examination, the five-person jury unanimously awarded the Spivey Prize to Richard Kingston. Indeed, the jury chair, the German master craftsman Martin Skowroneck, told his cohorts that Richard’s instrument was so similar to something he himself might have made that Kingston and he must be soul mates! Since I was present to play the opening solo recital and chair a symposium of the builders, I was especially proud of my younger colleague’s great honor, and nearly overcome with emotion, when, for his acceptance of the award, he requested my presence beside him on stage. We had both come a very long way in 21 years!

The Georgia reunion led directly to the acquisition of my own Kingston harpsichord in 1994. A stellar example of Richard’s Franco-Flemish doubles, its keyboards utilize an octave span of 6¼ inches rather than the usual 6½—a small, but vital difference when attempting to negotiate some of the wide stretches found in many of the contemporary pieces that I have championed throughout my career.

A very special example of Kingston’s craft is his “Millennium” Harpsichord, Opus 300, built to celebrate things both old and new for the new century! The instrument received an extensive dedication recital debut on November 3, 2002, in the Washington, D.C., home of Charles and Susan Mize. Basically the well-loved Franco-Flemish Kingston double, this harpsichord is visually striking in its black-matte finish, supported on three stainless-steel pylons. An optional computer screen is also available as an augmentation of the usual music desk, thus allowing digitally scanned scores to be read by scrolling through them by utilizing a foot pedal.

Honored to be the first of a cadre of harpsichordists to “open” the musical feast, I chose a program that began with John Bull’s Coranto Kingston and ended with a commissioned work from composer Glenn Spring, Suite 3-D. This work for two to play at one harpsichord celebrates the hometowns of the composer (Denver) and the players (Dallas for me and D.C. [at that time] for Dr. Mize, who joined me for this first performance).

In the audience was one of Richard’s major mentors, the celebrated Boston harpsichord maker William Dowd. Following consecutive programs by Virginia Pleasants and Brigitte Haudebourg, Dowd’s shop foreman Don Angle brought down the house with his extraordinary keyboard skills in signature pieces by Scott Joplin, John Phillip Sousa, and, of course, the remarkable Angle himself.

When the Mizes moved to New Mexico a few years later, Opus 300 travelled with them. By then it had acquired a stunning lid painting in colorful abstract style by artist June Zinn Hobby. According to the harpsichord’s owners, my compact disc Hommages (recorded in 2007) is the only commercially available recording of this uniquely beautiful instrument.

• A brilliant harpsichordist and recording artist, Elaine Funaro lives in Durham, North Carolina, where her husband Randall Love teaches piano at Duke University. She describes her friendship with Kingston as follows:

Upon graduating from Oberlin College in 1974 I did what many harpsichordists did at the time: I went to Boston. There I started working for the harpsichord historian and decorator Sheridan Germann. For the most part we painted the soundboards of instruments from the shop of William Dowd, at the time the most famous American builder. Sheridan would travel around the country and to Paris [where Dowd had opened a second shop] to decorate soundboards. I recall her returning from a trip to Texas full of praise for the work of a new, young builder, Richard Kingston. That was the first time I heard his name.

Throughout the next decade his instruments, robust and musical, appeared at conferences and concerts. I did not need another instrument since I already had a Dowd, but our paths crossed more often when my husband and I returned from studies in Holland to settle in North Carolina. In 2009 Richard visited me and said that he had the parts for one last instrument and that he would like that instrument to be mine. As I was quite involved in performing contemporary music [as the Director of the Aliénor Competitions] we both wanted to create an instrument that reflected a completely modern aesthetic. Thus Richard’s Opus 333 was conceived. Currently Richard drops by quite often to regulate both the Dowd and his own instruments. We are very fortunate to have him so close by.

 

From the many archival papers that Kingston has entrusted to me for safekeeping and historical research, I share the following heartfelt words from this month’s honoree himself:

 

I have had a fascinating life and rewarding career. Often, upon reflection, it seems all that was ever required of me was to get dressed and show up each day. Considering the folk that took time with me, mentored me, gave me direction, I could not be any way other than successful in undertaking a career in harpsichord making.

I was on fire for the subject from the beginning, and that has never ceased. I did not plan it as a lifelong endeavor; I simply went from one harpsichord to the next, each intended to be the best work I could do, each as exciting to me as the very first.

The thrill of getting to the moment when I could begin voicing each instrument, to be reassured by those first sounds, was the same for me from the first to the last!

The sun is happy when it shines, a pen is happy when it writes, and I am happy when I am working on a harpsichord. I would do it all again.

 

As the fortunate owner of Richard’s harpsichord, the magnificent “Big Blue,” I share his happiness every time I play this triple-transposing instrument with its incredible resonance, even in the uppermost range of a treble that extends to top G.

One of the most memorable of the 101 Limited Editions Dallas house concerts presented during 33 years was the third one in season 28. On Sunday, February 19, 2012, Richard Kingston joined pianist Linton Powell and me as the narrator for a live performance of Said the Piano to the Harpsichord, which he had encountered as a favorite 45-rpm music disc during early childhood. The skit tells a dramatic story, illustrated with musical examples, during which sarcastic rivalry between the two keyboard instruments ends in collaboration, as demonstrated by composer Douglas Moore’s brief but charming Variations on The Old Gray Mare: the very recording that first introduced young Richard to the sounds of the harpsichord, thus beginning his lifelong love affair with the instrument.

It has been a fantastic journey, dear Maestro. Welcome to the “Three-Score-and-Ten” Club! Now, shall we both aim for “Four-Score” status?

September 29–October 2, 2013

Marijim Thoene and Gale Kramer

Thanks to Gale Kramer for his review of the student recital on September 30.

Marijim Thoene, a student of Marilyn Mason, received a DMA in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. An active recitalist, her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song, are available through Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts.  

Gale Kramer, DMA, is organist emeritus of Metropolitan United Methodist Church in Detroit, Michigan, and a former assistant professor of organ at Wayne State University. A graduate of the University of Michigan, he is a regular reviewer and occasional contributor to The Diapason. His article, “Food References in the Short Chorales of Clavierübung III,” appeared in the April 1984 issue of The Diapason.

Marilyn Mason—legend in her own time, musician and teacher of international renown, torchbearer for composers, organ builders, and students, ground breaker, and pioneer—was honored in this year’s 53rd Conference on Organ Music. Mason has been consumed by a magnificent obsession, and has shared her mantra “eat, sleep, and practice” with hundreds of students at the University of Michigan. The Victorian writer Walter Pater encapsulated her life: “To burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life.” 

The principal business of this annual conference was the celebration of Marilyn Mason’s 66 years at the helm of the organ department of the University of Michigan. Following this year of furlough she will say goodbye to the full-time employment that has occupied her since her organ teacher, Professor Palmer Christian, hired her on to the faculty of the School of Music. Over the course of the conference many of her attributes came to the fore: loyalty to the University of Michigan, excellence in performance all over the world, practical concern for scholarships and employment for her students, and perseverance in making things happen, not just once, but over many years. The organ conference itself embodies one of many events she saw a need for, initiated, and perpetuated over time, in this case for 53 years. Other long-term projects to which she devoted her energies include a large repertoire of commissioned organ works, and 56 Historical Organ Tours sponsored by the University of Michigan, which she initiated in order to enable students to experience the sound and touch of historic European instruments.

 

Sunday, September 29, 2013

The music of the first event of the conference, “A Grand Night for Singing,” featuring all of the choral groups at the University of Michigan—the Chamber Choir, the Orpheus Singers, Men’s Glee Club, and Women’s Glee Club, totaling 357 young singers—took place in Hill Auditorium and was filled with energy and beauty. The concert—the perfect way to begin a celebration of Marilyn Mason’s life’s work—was the first of the season, and also celebrated the one-hundredth anniversary of Hill Auditorium. The singers entered from the back of the auditorium and the audience of over a thousand fell silent as hundreds of singers walked briskly down the aisles and took their places on the risers. The repertoire ranged from secular to sacred: from scenes from Rossini’s The Barber of Seville to Sondheim’s A Little Night Music, from Baroque to contemporary, from a cappella to that accompanied by the Frieze Memorial Organ, Steinway, or Baroque ensemble. The level of performance of these choirs was truly remarkable, especially since they had been prepared in only nineteen days. Vocal blend, whether from a small ensemble or a choir of over three hundred, was rich, the range of dynamics was kaleidoscopic, attacks were precise, phrases were controlled, but most impressive was the power to communicate deep emotion that transported the audience. This was apparent especially in the University Choir’s performance of Stephen Paulus’s The Road Home, conducted by Eugene Rogers and featuring soprano soloist Shenika John Jordan. Ms. Jordan became an actress and transported us with her soaring voice.  

Several works were accompanied on the Frieze Memorial Organ and harpsichord played by Scott Van Ornum, former student of Professor Mason. In both Benjamin Britten’s Festival Te Deum and Ralph Vaughan Williams’ O clap your hands we heard a sampling of the vast color palette of the organ, from soft flutes to thundering reeds. Van Ornum deftly exploited the dramatic power of the organ to soothe, exhilarate, and transport. The hosts of the concert, Melody Racine and Jerry Blackstone, reveled in the music, especially in the grand finale, It’s a grand night for singing, during which they danced and sang. The audience was invited to join in singing with all the choirs directed by Blackstone, and accompanied by organist Scott Van Ornum and pianists Samantha Beresford and David Gilliland. 

In the evening, Andrew Herbruck played music by Leo Sowerby for his Master of Music recital at Hill Auditorium, offering an interesting survey of Sowerby’s forms and styles. Comes Autumn Time reflected Sowerby’s fascination with blues and his preference for solo reeds. It was a treat to hear movements two and three from the seldom-played Suite for Organ. In the second movement, Fantasy for Flute Stops, Herbruck played the repeated motif (which sounded much like a forerunner of Philip Glass) with amazing dexterity and control. The third movement, Air with Variations, showed Herbruck’s careful phrasing of the passages for solo clarinet. He played the Passacaglia from Symphony for Organ with a combination of restraint and gusto and made the performance electric.

Festival Musick (I. Fanfare, II. Chorale, and III. Toccata on “A.G.O.”)filled the second half of the recital and provided a glimpse into Sowerby’s ability to combine unusual timbres in dialogue with the organ. 

 

Monday, September 30, 2013

The conference opened with a program by pupils of James Kibbie: Andrew Lang (Praeambulum in E Major, LübWV 7, Lübeck), David Banas (Premier Livre d’orgue: Récit de Tierce en taille, Offertoire sur les grands jeux, de Grigny), Mary Zelinski (Prelude and Fugue in G Major, BWV 550, Bach), Paul Giessner (Organ Trio, no. 1, Lucas Grant), Elliot Krasny (his own Ascension, Descention), and Jenna Moon (Sonata IV in B-Flat Major, Mendelssohn). They brought out the best in the Marilyn Mason Organ, conceived by Charles Fisk and others in collaboration with Marilyn Mason in the years just before 1985.

Department Chair Kibbie introduced Dr. Karl Schrock, Visiting Faculty Member in Organ for the 2013–2014 academic year, and announced the appointment of Vincent Dubois and Daniel Roth as Visiting Artists, one in each of the two academic terms. They will each teach private lessons to all organ students and present a public masterclass and recital.

The afternoon session, featuring the students of Marilyn Mason, was held at the First Congregational Church, home of the 1985 Karl Wilhelm organ, Opus 97. When Marilyn Mason entered the church everyone spontaneously rose to their feet and clapped. She introduced Andrew Meagher, saying, “I admire Andrew a lot. He is the only student I have ever had who studied Schoenberg’s Variations on a Recitative with me and memorized it. I watched the score and he played it right!” (Schoenberg consulted with Mason during the writing of this work.) Meagher is a DMA graduate and played Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, from memory. The other students are currently enrolled and played the following pieces with conviction and energy: Regan Chuhran, Prelude in F Minor, BWV 534; Renate McLaughlin, Le petit pêcheur rusé—Air and three variations from Air and Variations for Pedal Solo by Flor Peeters; Joshua Boyd, Jubilate, op. 67, no. 2, and Recessional, op. 96, no. 4, by William Mathias; Glenn Tucker, Trio Sonata No. 1 in E-flat Major, BWV 525 (played from memory); and Kipp Cortez, Fantasie and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542.

The recital was immediately followed by Stephen Warner’s discussion of the history of the organs at First Congregational Church, with special emphasis on the current Karl Wilhelm organ. He gave some practical and useful advice on organ maintenance. 

Next we heard repertoire for organ and other instruments. Sipkje Pes-nichak, oboist, and Tim Huth, organist, performed Aria by Jehan Alain. We also heard music for organ and handbells directed by Michele Johns and performed by Joshua Boyd and ringers from St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church. 

The evening festivities began in the banquet hall of the Michigan League, packed with well-wishers whose lives have been profoundly touched by Marilyn Mason. She was congratulated and paid tribute to by David C. Munson, master of ceremonies and dean of engineering and computer science; Lester P. Monts, senior vice provost for academic affairs; and Arthur F. Thurnau, professor of music (ethnomusicology). The Reverend Dr. Robert K. Livingston, senior minister at the First Congregational Church in Ann Arbor where Marilyn Mason is organist, praised her, saying: “Her life is a model of a life lived with compassion and loving kindness, and dedication and desire to help mentor. She has followed the advice of Stephen King, ‘Make your life one long gift to others—the rest is smoke and mirrors.’ She has made a lasting difference to each one of us and the world.” Short reminiscences were given by some of her former students, including Michele Johns, adjunct professor of organ and church music. Carolyn Thibideau, dean of the Detroit AGO chapter, quoted Mason’s sayings: “A recital date always arrives” and “If you have a task that needs to be done, just do it and get it over with!” Tim Huth, dean of the Ann Arbor AGO chapter, said he thinks of the organ conference as “soul juice.” He thanked her for enriching his life, commenting that she helped found the Ann Arbor AGO chapter, which now offers scholarships in her name and has made her an honorary member. In thanking her, Tim quoted Meister Eckhart: “If the only prayer you say in life is thank you, that will suffice.” Mary Ida Yost, professor emerita of organ at Eastern Michigan University, recalled Mason’s raucous laughter, and jokes from her little black book. She remarked how Marilyn Mason is one of the most celebrated performers and teachers of the world. She is larger than life. She has changed the world of organ music for life. She is a living example of unending generosity, genuine respect, and kindness. Her greatest legacy is about the future and not the past—through former students of hers who play in churches and teach, generation through generation. 

She quoted Mason’s sayings: “Miss one day of practice and you notice, miss two and your friends notice, miss three and the whole world notices.” 

Closing remarks were offered by Christopher Kendall, Dean of the University of Michigan School of Music, Theatre, and Dance: 

Throughout her career she has shattered many glass ceilings. She was the first American woman to play a concert in Westminster Abbey, the first to play in Latin America and Egypt. She has concertized on five continents. On one sabbatical she consulted with Fisk on the building of the facsimile of a Gottfried Silbermann organ for the Blanche Anderson Moore Recital Hall. She has made definitive recordings, consulted with Arnold Schoenberg, commissioned seventy-five organ works, and mentored hundreds of talented students. Her studio will be named the Marilyn Mason Organ Studio.

We were serenaded with a carillon recital as we left the League for Hill Auditorium to hear a concert to be performed by former doctoral students of Marilyn Mason. The joyous music announced the celebration like a high feast day. Patrick Macoska played Menuet Champetre Refondu by Ronald Barnes, Triptich: Intermezzo-Fantasy, and Slavic Dance by John Pozdro, Happy in Eternity (passacaglia) by Ronald Barnes, and Evocation by John Courter. 

At Hill Auditorium, James Kibbie, professor of organ and co-chair of the organ department at the University of Michigan, began his remarks by saying, “Look around and you will see the legacy of Marilyn Mason.” He pointed out that she has brought the best students and helped place them in jobs; led organ tours throughout Europe; created the Organ Institute; built the Scholarship Endowment Fund; and found and unlocked her students’ potential. He noted that the greatest tribute of all is to hear great music performed by her students. “Her greatness was immediately recognized by Palmer Christian, her teacher at the U of M. Upon meeting her he announced that a ‘buzz bomb’ just arrived from Alva, Oklahoma.” 

The concert’s emcee was the witty and loquacious David Wagner, professor of organ at Madonna University and director of the classical music station in Detroit. He regaled us with his unforgettable and hilarious story of his first encounter with the University of Michigan Organ Conference. Sixteen-year-old David read about it in The Diapason, a gift given to him as a reward for a good lesson by his organ teacher in Detroit. David persuaded a pal to borrow his uncle’s Buick and drive around Ann Arbor until they found Hill Auditorium. He had no idea where it was, but was convinced they could find it. They did find it. When David got back to Detroit, the police were ready to arrest his pal for grand theft, because his pal had not told his uncle they were borrowing the car. Such is the lure of the organ conference! 

All of the performers without exception played brilliantly. Each selected masterworks calculated to mesmerize and enthrall. Shin-Ae Chun (2006), a native of Incheon, South Korea, also holds a bachelor’s degree in nursing science. She is an international concert artist, represented by Concert Artist Cooperative, and organist at the First Baptist Church in Ann Arbor. She played Miroir by Ad Wammes and Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H by Franz Liszt. Thomas Strode (1981), founder of the Ann Arbor Boy Choir in 1987, teacher of music at St. Paul Lutheran Middle School, is director of music at St. Paul Lutheran Church in Ann Arbor. He played Gaston Dethier’s Christmas (Variations on ‘Adeste Fideles’). Thomas Marshall (1975) has been a member of the music faculty at the College of William and Mary since 1981 and has played harpsichord in an early music ensemble at Williamsburg since 1977. He played Praeludium et Fuga in h, BWV 544 by J.S. Bach and a commissioned work for this concert, Dance of Celebration (“Mambo for Marilyn”) by Joe Utterback. Joseph Galema (1982) received his BM from Calvin College and his MM and DMA from the University of Michigan. He has been organist at the U.S. Air Force Academy since 1982. In 2008, he became an instructor in the Milan Academy in Denver. He is in Who’s Who in America and has toured throughout Europe and the Baltic states. He played Marcel Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in B Major, op. 7, no. 1, and Allegro Deciso from Evocation, op. 37. 

Interspersed among the music were tributes offered by Professor Larry Schou of the University of South Dakota; Eileen Guenther, president of the AGO; and Professor Emeritus Gale Kramer of Wayne State University in Detroit. Larry Schou teaches organ and world music, and as dean of the School of Humanities oversees a faculty and staff of forty-seven. He recalled Marilyn Mason telling him to “Work hard. See life as others might not.” He remembered with fondness her workshops on Alain and Duruflé, and Almut Rössler’s performances and lectures on Messiaen. He thanked her for inviting his father and his colleague to her house for lunch, and for her work of sixty-six years. “Your performances, sense of humor, and prayers have helped so many people—they are to me a living legacy.”

Eileen Guenther’s letter was read. The president of the AGO expressed her congratulations to Mason, saying the lives she touched bear witness to her dedication to education. She thanked her for all she has done for the AGO.

Gale Kramer described Mason with words, varying in number of syllables from six to one, which poignantly captured her essence. 

Six syllables: “Marilyn Mason is indefatigable. Part of being indefatigable means doing something carefully many times without getting tired, whether practicing, repeating a joke, or commissioning an organ work. She has said a good teacher tells a student the same thing over and over in as many different ways as possible. Part of being indefatigable is coming back after a rest—on a pew, in the back of a bus—then climbing to the top of a spiral staircase.”

Five syllables: “Marilyn Mason is multifaceted, a performer, teacher, church musician, bon vivant, tour leader, raconteur, and friend.”

Four syllables: “Marilyn Mason is a visionary, evidenced in 53 organ conferences, 56 historic organ tours, and 70 commissioned works.”

Three syllables: “Marilyn Mason is practical. She realized it takes money to refurbish and maintain the Frieze Memorial Organ and to build and maintain the Fisk organ; it takes money to fund scholarships. And she is concerned that her students find jobs. At the breakfast table on her Historic Organ Tours, she would say, ‘Take some bread for a snack later on, you paid for it!’”

Two syllables: “Marilyn Mason is loyal to her students—that’s why we are here. And she is loyal to the University of Michigan. She belongs to a group of individuals who used their careers to bring esteem and glory to the university, not to people who used the university to further their own careers.” 

One syllable: smile. “We remember her smile, her exuberance.” 

At the end of the concert, Marilyn Mason was surrounded by students past and present whose lives have been profoundly touched by her teaching, joie de vivre, compassion, and kindness. 

 

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

We were privileged to hear Michael Barone of Pipedreams lecture on the topic “As Years Fly By.” It is always illuminating to hear Barone comment on recordings of organ music. He focused on composers whose birthdates can be celebrated in 2013. First on his list was Jean Titelouze (1563–1633) of the French Classical School. 

With the birthday of Johann Ludwig Krebs (1713–1780) we celebrate (maybe) The Little Preludes and Fugues. Barone suggested we check out other of Krebs’s works, including a Fugue in B-flat, which has been recorded by Irmtraud Krüger at Altenburg Cathedral. 

Barone also mentioned Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813–1888), whose set of virtuosic etudes for pedal piano has been recorded by Olivier Latry on Art of Pedal Piano: Alkan, Boëly, Brahms, Liszt, Schumann, issued in 2011. Kevin Bowyer, an English organist, has recorded the music of Alkan in Salisbury Cathedral. 

2013 marks the 150th birthdays of American composer Edgard Varèse (1883–1965), who studied with Widor at the Paris Conservatory, and Horatio Parker (1863–1919), several volumes of whose concert pieces, including the 21 Recital-Pieces, have been reissued. 

2013 also marks the hundredth anniversary of the births of Benjamin Britten (1913–1976), composer of War Requiem and only one organ piece, Prelude and Fugue on a Theme by Vittoria (1946), and Robert Elmore (1913–1985), much of whose music—reminiscent of Sigfrid Karg-Elert and Max Reger—is out of print. His Come to the Holy Mountain and Beneath the Cross of Jesus offer a richly emotional landscape, yet easily approachable. Norman McKenzie has recorded Elmore’s Sonata, written in 1975.

It was fitting that Michael Barone, one of the most informed critics of our time of organ repertoire and its discography, be invited to celebrate the accomplishments of Marilyn Mason. He began by saying: “Marilyn Mason has been with us through the ages. We are all her children, celebrators, and her debtors.” He pointed out that she has performed the music of contemporary composers: Searle Wright, Leo Sowerby, Robert Crandell, Virgil Thomson, Normand Lockwood, and Paul Creston (to name only a few) and has commissioned many to compose music for her. Mason was the first to record Arnold Schoenberg’s Variations on a Recitative and has recorded the freely composed works and partitas of Pachelbel on the Fisk organ. Barone played excerpts from her recordings, which included her program performed at the International Congress of Organists in London in 1957: the one solo piece, Concerto by English composer Matthew Camidge (1758–1844) as well as Sowerby’s Classic Concerto and Seth Bingham’s Connecticut Suite, both with orchestra. Barone concluded by playing her recording of a trumpet fanfare by José Lidon (1752–1827). He said: “To Marilyn Mason who has taken us around the world, and given us reason to practice, and given us an example for us all to follow.” With these words we all stood and clapped and cheered while Marilyn Mason gave us one of her unforgettable smiles.

James Hammann, DMA, former Mason student, concert artist, recording artist, scholar, former chair of the music department at the University of New Orleans, and former president of the Organ Historical Society, gave a presentation entitled “History of Farrand & Votey Organ with Videos, Recordings, and Commentary.” He prefaced his lecture saying that “This work was done for my DMA document and was encouraged by Marilyn Mason.” Hammann detailed the mechanical developments during the organ’s transition from mechanical action to electro-pneumatic, pointing out that the Detroit organ company of Farrand & Votey was the first to use intermanual couplers with tilting tablets. Farrand & Votey built Opus 700, now known to us as the Frieze Memorial Organ in Hill Auditorium, for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago. It had 63 speaking stops and the same façade that it had when it was placed in University Hall in 1898. University Hall was torn down and replaced with Angell Hall and the organ was moved to Hill Auditorium in 1913. It was considered one of the largest and finest instruments in the country. Farrand & Votey built small organs as well as large; Detroit in the 1890s was an innovative organ-building center.

As we left Hill Auditorium we were treated to a carillon concert: Kipp Cortez, doctoral student of Marilyn Mason,  played Preludio V by Mathias Vanden Gheyn, Chorale Partita IV: ‘St. Anne’ by John Knox, two movements from Gregorian Triptych by John Courter, Image no. 2 by Emilien Allard, and Movement III from Serenade by Ronald Barnes. 

The final round of the Second Annual Organ Improvisation Competition was held at the First Presbyterian Church. Each contestant was given a theme to study for 30 minutes and was then required to improvise a three-movement suite no more than 15 minutes long. Judging criteria included thematic development, form, stylistic consistency, rhythmic interest, and use of the instrument. The judges were Michael Barone, James Hammann, and Christine Clewell. Each contestant played with virtuosic technique, and grasped instantly the possibilities of colors and timbres at their disposal. It was exciting to hear “new works” spun from their imaginations and to hear them played with such passion. It was no wonder the judges deliberated for almost 45 minutes.  

Devon Howard, private teacher and organist at First Presbyterian Church in Longmont, Colorado, and Douglas Murray, professor of English at Belmont University, Nashville, Tennessee, were runners-up. Aaron Tan, organ scholar at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Detroit, received third place. Alejandro D. Consolacion II, director of music and organist at Whitehouse United Methodist Church in Princeton, New Jersey, received second place. Richard Fitzgerald, associate director of music at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C., received first place.

Richard Fitzgerald received his undergraduate degree from Westminster and his MM and DMA from Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore; his dissertation was entitled “Method for Improvisation and Pedagogy.” He has studied improvisation with John Walker, Donald Sutherland, Mark Anderson, Ronald Stolk, Rachel Laurin, Jeffry Brillhart, and Peter Latona. 

Special thanks are due to Tom Granum, Director of Music Ministries at First Presbyterian Church for his gracious hospitality, and to Michele Johns, organizer of the competition, and her committee, Marcia Van Oyen, Gale Kramer, and Darlene Kuperus. 

As we approached Hill Auditorium for the final concert of the conference, we were welcomed by Joshua Boyd’s carillon recital: Summer Fanfares by Roy Hamlin Johnson, Music for Carillon, op. 107 by Lowell Liebermann, Reflections from the Tower by Emma Lou Diemer, and Easter Dawning by George Crumb. 

The closing recital was played by Tom Trenney who, from my vantage point, looked like a teen-ager. His recital was icing on the cake—played with intensity, gusto, sensitivity, and passion. One was dazzled by his flawless technique and the beautiful spirit that shone through each piece: Variations on America by Charles Ives, Scherzo, op. 2, by Maurice Duruflé, Air by Gerre Hancock, six movements from The King of Instruments by William Albright, Fugue in E-Flat Major, BWV 552 by J.S. Bach, Deuxième fantasie by Jehan Alain, and an improvisation on two submitted themes (Now Thank We All Our God and a newly created abstract theme). At the end of his performance Trenney was given thunderous applause and a standing ovation. 

After the first half of Tom Trenney’s recital, a surprise appearance by William Bolcom and Joan Morris paid tribute to Marilyn Mason with a lively and heartfelt performance of Black Max and (I’ll Be Loving You) Always.  

The 53rd Conference on Organ Music honoring Marilyn Mason’s sixty-six years of teaching was organized by Michele Johns. It offered performances and lectures of the highest quality that informed and inspired, and offered tribute to a beautiful life dedicated to performing, teaching and learning. Marilyn Mason’s energy, enthusiasm, sense of humor, and compassion are the qualities that have drawn hundreds of students to her from all over the world, and throughout the United States. 

The final photo is of Gordon Atkinson, a resident of Windsor, Australia, and an eminent composer and organist, who, of all of her former students, traveled the farthest to celebrate her lifetime achievement. He reminisced saying: 

I heard Marilyn Mason play at Westminster Abbey in 1957 for the International Congress of Organists. She played at the Abbey when it had only one general piston! The program was hailed as one of the great recitals of the Congress. Who would have guessed I would study with her for my master’s degree at the University of Michigan?

Marilyn Mason has been a Svengali, and an organistenmacher. Her countless students are literally everywhere there is a pipe organ to be played. Each person attending the conference was given a CD that included works from some of her performances with the Galliard Brass Ensemble, works played at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, and Pipedreams premieres.  In this gift we have a reminder of her virtuosity and artistry. In conclusion we say thank you to Marilyn Mason for “burning with a hard, gem–like flame,” and for sharing your radiance with the world and us.

Lukas Foss, composer, performer, and teacher, died in New York on February 2. He was 86. German-born, Foss was trained in Germany, in Paris, and at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia; he had studied composition with Randall Thompson and Paul Hindemith, and conducting with Fritz Reiner and Serge Koussevitzky. Known for composing in different musical styles, he often combined past and present influences and techniques. He served as the pianist of the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1944–50, and he conducted numerous orchestras including the Brooklyn Philharmonic, the Jerusalem Symphony, and the Milwaukee Symphony. He taught composition and conducting at UCLA from 1953–62 and had served as composer-in-residence at Carnegie-Mellon University, Harvard University, the Manhattan School of Music, Yale University, and Boston University. Foss’s compositional output included many orchestral, chamber, and choral works, as well as several works for piano, and two organ compositions, Four Etudes (1967) and War and Peace (1995). Lukas Foss is survived by his wife Cornelia.

James Barclay Hartman died on January 23 at the age of 84. He was predeceased by his wife Pamela in 1983. Born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada on January 12, 1925, he was educated at the University of Manitoba (BA 1948, MA 1951), Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island, and Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois (Ph.D.). He began a teaching career at Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa, returning to Canada in 1967 to teach at Scarborough College, University of Toronto. In 1974 he was appointed director of development and external affairs at Algoma University College, Laurentian University in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and in 1980 joined the Continuing Education Division at the University of Manitoba as associate professor and director, humanities and professional studies. At the time of his retirement he held the position of senior academic editor.
A skilled photographer, he did commercial photography to help finance his university education. His great passion was music, especially the music of J. S. Bach, and in particular the works for organ and for harpsichord, both of which he played. He served for many years as book reviewer for The Diapason, and authored reviews and articles for numerous academic journals. His chief publication was the book The Organ in Manitoba, published by the University of Manitoba Press in 1997.
Dr. Hartman’s articles published in The Diapason include: “The World of the Organ on the Internet” (February 2005); “Alternative Organists” (July 2004); “Seven Outstanding Canadian Organists of the Past” (September 2002); “Families of Professional Organists in Canada” (May 2002); “Organ Recital Repertoire: Now and Then” (November 2001); “Prodigy Organists of the Past” (December 2000); “Canadian Organbuilding” (Part 1, May 1999; Part 2, June 1999); “Purcell’s Tercentenary in Print: Recent Books” (Part I, November 1997; Part II, December 1997); “The Golden Age of the Organ in Manitoba: 1875–1919” (Part 1, May 1997; Part 2, June 1997); “The Organ: An American Journal, 1892–1894” (December 1995); and “The Search for Authenticity in Music—An Elusive Ideal?” (June 1993).

Thomas A. Klug, age 61, died suddenly at his home in Minneapolis on January 8. He received his bachelor’s degree in music from Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, and his master’s degree from Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois. An accomplished organist for 44 years, he began his musical career at St. Michael’s United Church of Christ in West Chicago, Illinois. He went on to serve the First United Methodist Church in Elgin, Illinois, Olivet Congregational Church in St. Paul, Minnesota, and most recently was the organist for 20 years at St. Michael’s Lutheran Church in Roseville, Minnesota. Tom was a member of the American Guild of Organists and the Organ Historical Society, an outdoor enthusiast, gardener, and an accomplished cook. He will be deeply missed by his family and friends. A memorial service was held January 13 at St. Michael’s Lutheran Church, Roseville. He is survived by his parents, Armin and Marjorie Klug, brothers Kenneth (Cindy) and James (Diane Donahue), five nieces and nephews, one great-niece, and special friend Doug Erickson.
—Frank Rippl

Dutch organist and musicologist Ewald Kooiman died on January 25, on vacation in Egypt. He died in his sleep; the cause was heart failure.
Ewald Kooiman was born on June 14, 1938 in Wormer, just north of Amsterdam. He studied French at the VU University in Amsterdam and at the University of Poitiers, taking the doctorate in 1975 with a dissertation on the Tombel de Chartrose, a medieval collection of saints’ lives. He then taught Old French at the VU University, where he was appointed Professor of Organ Art in 1988.
As a teenager, Kooiman studied organ with Klaas Bakker. After passing the State Examination and encouraged by members of the committee to pursue music studies at a higher level, he continued with Piet Kee at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, earning a Prix d’Excellence—the equivalent of a doctorate—in 1969. While studying French at Poitiers, he simultaneously studied organ with Jean Langlais at the Paris Schola Cantorum, taking the Prix de Virtuosité in 1963.
Kooiman had a long and impressive international career as a concert organist. He twice recorded the complete organ works of Bach—first on LP, then on CD—and was awarded the Prize of German Record Critics in 2003. He was in the midst of recording his third complete Bach set—on SACD, using Silbermann organs in Alsace—which was scheduled to come out in late 2009 or early 2010.
Although Bach was at the heart of his musical activities, Kooiman took an interest in many other parts of the organ repertoire, for example the French Baroque. His study of this repertoire and the relevant treatises was, of course, greatly facilitated by his knowledge of the French language. His interest in the French Baroque organ also led to the construction of the so-called Couperin Organ (Koenig/Fontijn & Gaal, 1973) in the auditorium of the VU University.
But he also loved playing—and teaching—Reger and Reubke; he very much enjoyed learning Widor’s Symphonie gothique when he was asked to play the work as part of a complete Widor series in Germany; and he admitted to having “a weak spot” for Guilmant’s Variations on “Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan.”
As a scholar, Kooiman edited some 50 volumes of mostly unknown organ music in the series Incognita Organo (published by the Dutch publisher Harmonia). Much of the series was devoted to organ music of the second half of the eighteenth and of the early nineteenth century, traditionally considered a low point in history of organ music. He also published widely on eighteenth- and nineteenth-century performance practice, mainly in the Dutch journal Het Orgel. His inaugural address as Professor of Organ Art was about the nineteenth-century roots of the French Bach tradition.
Besides teaching at the famous International Summer Academy for Organists at Haarlem—at first French Baroque repertoire, later Bach—Ewald Kooiman was for many years chairman of the jury for the improvisation competition in the same city. His fluency—besides French—in English and German and his ability to listen critically to the opinions of his colleagues made him the ideal person for such a job.
Although he was never the titulaire of one of the major historical Dutch organs, Kooiman served as University Organist of the VU University, playing the Couperin Organ in recitals and for university functions. But he also played organ for the Sunday morning services in the chapel of the university hospital.
In 1986, Kooiman succeeded Piet Kee as Professor of Organ at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, mostly teaching international students at the graduate level. I had the pleasure of studying with him for three years before graduating with a BM in 1989, having previously studied with Piet Kee for two years. Although much time was naturally spent with Bach—I learned at least two trio sonatas with him—he also taught later repertoire very well: Mozart, Mendelssohn, Reubke, Reger, Hindemith, Franck, and Alain come to mind. From time to time, I had to play a little recital, and he personally took care of “organizing” an audience by inviting his family.
As Professor Ars Organi at the VU University, Ewald was the adviser for three Ph.D. dissertations, all dealing with organ art at the dawn of Modernism: Hans Fidom’s “Diversity in Unity: Discussions on Organ Building in Germany 1880–1918” (2002); David Adams’s “‘Modern’ Organ Style in Karl Straube’s Reger Editions” (2007); and most recently René Verwer’s “Cavaillé-Coll and The Netherlands 1875–1924” (2008).
Ewald Kooiman was a Knight in the Order of the Dutch Lion; an honorary member of the Royal Dutch Society of Organists; and a bearer of the Medal of Merit of the City of Haarlem. For his 70th birthday, the VU University organized a conference in his honor and a group of prominent colleagues—including American Bach scholars Christoph Wolff and George Stauffer—offered him a collection of essays entitled Pro Organo Pleno (Veenhuizen: Boeijenga, 2008). Piet Kee’s contribution was the organ work Seventy Chords (and Some More) for Ewald. Earlier, Cor Kee (Piet’s father, the famous improviser and improvisation teacher) had dedicated his Couperin Suite (1980) as well as several short pieces to Ewald.
Though clearly part of a tradition and full of respect for his teachers, Kooiman was in many ways an individualist. He enjoyed frequent work-outs at the gym, not only because it kept him physically fit and helped him deal with the ergonomic challenges of playing historic organs, but also because he liked talking with “regular” people. Among colleagues—particularly in Germany—he was famous for wearing sneakers instead of more orthodox organ shoes. One of his favorite stories about his studies with Langlais was that the latter was keen on teaching him how to improvise a toccata à la française, a genre that Kooiman described as “knockabout-at-the-organ”—not exactly his cup of tea. “Non maître, je n’aime pas tellement ça,” he claimed to have answered: “No professor, I don’t like that too much.”
Ewald Kooiman is survived by his wife Truus, their children Peter and Mirjam, and two grandchildren. The funeral service took place at the Westerkerk in Amsterdam on February 4.
—Jan-Piet Knijff

Joseph F. MacFarland, 86, died on December 29, 2008, at the Westport Health Care Center in Westport, Connecticut. A native and lifelong resident of Norwalk, Connecticut, he was born on February 14, 1922. He earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the Juilliard School in New York, and studied organ with David McK. Williams and Jack Ossewarde at St. Bartholomew’s Church. For 56 years MacFarland served as organist-choirmaster at the First Congregational Church on the Green in Norwalk. He also was the accompanist for the Wilton Playshop, Staples High School, and Norwalk High School. He was a lifelong member of First United Methodist Church, Norwalk, Connecticut, and a member of the Bridgeport AGO chapter. He was a veteran of World War II, having served in the U.S. Army Air Corps.

Richard H. (Dick) Peterson died at age 83 on January 29, fourteen years after suffering a debilitating stroke. Besides spending time with Carol, his devoted wife of 53 years, and with his other family members, Richard’s greatest passion in life was applying modern technology to pipe organ building. His goal was always to make organs better, more affordable, and consequently more available for people to enjoy. During his long and prolific career, he was awarded over 70 U.S. and foreign patents.
Dick Peterson was born on February 26, 1925 in Chicago. He served in the U.S. Army as a radio engineer from 1943 until 1946 and studied electronics at the City College of New York. While stationed in New York City, he often visited Radio City Music Hall and loved the room-filling sound of the organ there while also being fascinated by the mechanics of pipe organs. It was during that time that he told his parents his goal in life was to “perfect the organ.”
Mr. Peterson soon co-founded the Haygren Church Organ Company in Chicago, which built 50 electronic organs for churches all around the Midwest. Soon thereafter, he founded Peterson Electro-Musical Products, currently in Alsip, Illinois. In 1952, he presented a prototype spinet electronic organ to the Gulbransen Piano Company. Gulbransen’s president was thrilled with the sound of the instrument, and they soon negotiated an arrangement where Richard would help the piano company get into the organ business and, as an independent contractor, he would develop and license technology to be used in building a line of classical and theatre-style home organs for Gulbransen to sell. One particularly notable accomplishment was Gulbransen’s introduction of the world’s first fully transistorized organ at a trade show in 1957. Gulbransen would ultimately sell well over 100,000 organs based on Peterson inventions.
Meanwhile, many of Peterson’s developments for electronic organs evolved into applications for real pipe organs. Especially notable among over 50 of Dick’s innovative products for the pipe organ are the first digital record/playback system; the first widely used modular solid state switching system; the DuoSet solid state combination action; a line of “pedal extension” 16-foot and 32-foot voices; and the first commercially available electronic swell shade operator. Many thousands of pipe organs worldwide utilize control equipment that is the direct result of Richard’s pioneering efforts. Also carrying his name is a family of musical instrument tuners familiar to countless thousands of school band students and widely respected by professional musicians, recording artists, musical instrument manufacturers and technicians.
In the 1950s, Dick Peterson enjoyed learning to fly a Piper Cub airplane, and in more recent times preceding his illness enjoyed ham radio, boating, and restoring and driving his collection of vintage Volkswagens. He was a longtime member of Palos Park Presbyterian Community Church in his home town of Palos Park, Illinois.
Memorial donations may be made to the American Guild of Organists “New Organist Fund,” where a scholarship is being established in Richard Peterson’s name.
—Scott Peterson

William J. (Bill) Stephens, 84, of Lawrence, Kansas, died suddenly at home of heart failure on December 19, 2008. Born in Jacksonville, Texas on June 28, 1924, his organ playing career began at the Episcopal Church in Jacksonville while in his early teens. He later studied organ with Roy Perry in Kilgore, Texas, and became interested in organ building at the workshop of William Redmond in Dallas. He graduated from the University of North Texas in 1949 with a bachelor’s degree in organ, where he was a pupil of Helen Hewitt. Stephens served in the Navy during WWII as a gunner’s mate 2nd class in the Pacific theater. He subsequently studied organ at the University of Colorado, Boulder, where he was a teaching assistant in organ and a pupil of Everett Jay Hilty in organ and Cecil Effinger in theory.
Stephens taught public school music in south Texas, was the organist-choirmaster of Trinity Episcopal and Trinity Lutheran Churches in Victoria, Texas, and was south Texas representative for the Reuter Organ Company, Lawrence, Kansas. He married Mary Elizabeth Durett of Memphis, Tennessee, in Denton on November 19, 1946. In 1968 Bill moved his family to Lawrence, Kansas, and installed Reuter pipe organs in all of the 50 states except Alaska. He operated an organ building and maintenance service business, covering most of the Midwest. He was also organist-choirmaster at Grace Episcopal Church, Ottawa, Kansas, for three years.
During his years at Reuter he taught many young men the mechanics, care and feeding of pipe organs and was very proud of their work when they became full-fledged “Organ Men.” For 40 years he was curator of organs at Christ Church Cathedral, Houston, and was proud of the recognition he received upon retiring. He also took special pride in rebuilding the organ at Trinity Episcopal Church, Aurora, Illinois. It had been water-soaked and inoperable for 25 years. Kristopher Harris assisted, and Christopher Hathaway played the dedication recital November 11, 2001.
Bill Stephens was a member of the Organ Historical Society. He is survived by his wife, Mary Elizabeth Durett Stephens, five children, four grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.
—Rumsey-Yost Funeral Home
Lawrence, Kansas

Marguerite Long Thal died December 5, 2008, in Sylvania, Ohio. She was 73. Born January 27, 1935, in Quinter, Kansas, she studied organ with Marilyn Mason at the University of Michigan, where she earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in music. After graduation, she received a Fulbright grant to study in Paris, France for two years, where she attended the American University and studied with Jean Langlais and Nadia Boulanger. Returning to the U.S., she was appointed minister of music at the First Congregational Church in Toledo, Ohio, and taught organ at Bowling Green State University. In 1961, she married Roy Thal Jr., and they moved to Sylvania, where they remained for more than 40 years.
Active in the AGO, Mrs. Thal was a past dean of the Toledo chapter and served as Ohio district convener. She served as minister of music at Sylvania United Church of Christ for 18 years, gave many solo performances, and appeared with Prinzipal VI, a group of six organists who performed regionally. She is survived by her husband, Norman, two daughters, and three grandchildren.