Remembering Wilbur Held 1914–2015

Jay Zoller

Jay Zoller is organist at South Parish Congregational Church in Augusta, Maine, where he plays the church’s historic 1866 E. & G. G. Hook organ. He holds degrees from the University of New Hampshire and the School of Theology at Boston University. 

A retired designer for the Andover Organ Company, he currently designs for the Organ Clearing House and for David E. Wallace & Co. Pipe Organ Builders of Gorham, Maine. Zoller resides in Newcastle, Maine, with his wife Rachel.

In addition to writing several articles about Heinz Wunderlich for The American Organist, Choir & Organ, and The Diapason, he has played in all-Wunderlich recitals in Hamburg, Germany in 1999, 2004, and 2009. His article, “An Organ Adventure in South Korea,” appeared in the December 2011 issue of The Diapason.

Heinz Wunderlich died March 10, 2012 (see “Nunc Dimittis,” The Diapason, May 2012, pp. 10, 12). He served for many years as music director at St. Jacobi in Hamburg and as professor of organ and improvisation at the Hamburg College of Music. He concertized throughout the world, including several tours with his choir, the Kantorei St. Jacobi. In the United States alone he made twenty-six tours. Students came from all over the world to study with him—many to study the works of Max Reger, as Wunderlich was one of the few musicians in a direct line of succession with Reger. 

Wunderlich left an extensive body of organ works, as well as choral music. He remained active as a recitalist until his 91st year, when he decided not to play any more. See “Heinz Wunderlich at 90,” by Jay Zoller, The Diapason, April 2009, pp. 19–21; “80th Birthday Tribute—Heinz Wunderlich,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1999, p. 18; “Heinz Wunderlich at 74,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1994, p. 6; and “The Published Organ Works of Heinz Wunderlich,” by David Burton Brown, The Diapason, April 1994, pp. 12–13.

 

Beginnings

As a sophomore in high school, after seven years of piano lessons, I began my study of the organ with the organist at my family’s church. My teacher, David Whitehouse, was also a student—at the University of New Hampshire—and he did his best to impart to me the correct methods of playing the organ. In addition, he stimulated my interest by taking me, even before I had my own driver’s license, to hear concerts on the large organ at the Methuen Memorial Music Hall, which was about an hour’s drive away from my home in Durham.

My recollection of many of those recitals is hazy at best, often sitting in the front row so I would have a ringside seat—watching was as important to me as listening. However, one Friday night stayed in my memory like no other: October 20, 1961 at 8:30 pm—the program, which I saved, reads: Heinz Wunderlich, Organist, Jacobikirche, Hamburg. From my front-row seat on the right-hand side, I was transfixed as his program proceeded: Buxtehude, Prelude and Fugue in E Minor; Bach, Trio Sonata III in D Minor and Toccata and Fugue in F Major. After intermission he played his own Sonata on a Single Theme, a piece which, little could I imagine at the time, I would know intimately later in my life. Wunderlich ended his program with the Reger Fantasie and Fugue on B-A-C-H. For whatever reasons, the image I had of him there would remain with me.

 

1989  

My story now jumps ahead nearly thirty years. I was working for the Andover Organ Company in Methuen, Massachusetts, designing pipe organs. We had just finished a small two-manual organ of my design for St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in North Andover, Massachusetts. Unknown to me, Heinz Wunderlich had been engaged for the dedication recital through his friendship with Arthur Howells. In addition to the recital, a masterclass was to be held the day before. I was one of five or six people who offered to play. I did not realize this was the man that I had heard play so many years before. Nor did I think about the fact that he was a recognized authority on the music of Bach! So, imagine my embarrassment when I played the C Major Prelude and Fugue of Johann Ludwig Krebs rather than Bach. 

Despite being unfamiliar with the music, Professor Wunderlich was most gracious and offered helpful advice on many aspects of the piece. I still have his markings in my score. I was fortunate to see a program of the next day’s recital and noticed that it included one of his own pieces, the Sonata on a Single Theme. I asked him about his music and if it was published. Alas, nothing was published at that time, but he was very kind and brought me a cassette recording of some of his organ works. When I listened to it later, I was hooked! It became one of the most listened-to recordings in my collection. The music had a clear crispness to it; it was a fresh sound—a controlled wildness made it come alive for me. I couldn’t stop listening. It sounded the way contemporary organ writing ought to be.

I waited, hoping that it was being published, and finally wrote to Professor Wunderlich roughly two years later. I identified myself as the person who had played Krebs for him that day. Yes, he remembered me. And, yes some of the organ works were now published. I immediately ordered every one. The first piece that I learned was the very one I had heard him play, the Sonata on a Single Theme. I quickly discovered how difficult the music actually was.

I should say that my correspondence with Professor Wunderlich began late in his career. He had retired in 1982 and was devoting his time to concertizing and preparing his many compositions for publication. There was no reason that he needed to be kind to an unknown American who had somehow converted to his music so late in life. But, sometimes things work out differently than you expect. I wrote to him and told him what I was working on, asking questions about the music and the way he wanted it performed. Occasionally, I even discovered a wrong note in the score. I would send him my recital programs when I had included a piece of his and he always answered; and at the same time he answered my questions and thanked me for my interpretation of his music. 

Over the years I played quite a few of his pieces, even playing one lunchtime all-Wunderlich concert. As 1999 grew near, Wunderlich asked me if I would write an article about him in honor of his approaching 80th birthday. I did so and my article “Heinz Wunderlich at 80” appeared in the April 1999 issue of The American Organist. I had also made the decision to travel to Hamburg, Germany for his birthday celebrations and so bought my ticket expecting to have a relaxed trip. 

 

Birthday celebrations

I had played the Fuga Variata in a recital two months before my scheduled trip, but had no inkling of the phone call I was about to receive, literally the day before I was to leave. Heinz Wunderlich called from Germany to say that the organist who was scheduled to play the Fuga Variata was unable to do so, had backed out, and would I be willing to play? I was soon to discover that Wunderlich’s birthday celebrations consisted of many concerts over the period of nearly two weeks. In 1999 Heinz Wunderlich played an all-Bach recital on the Arp Schnitger organ at St. Jacobi; five days later he played another all-Bach program of harpsichord and violin with his violinist wife, Nelly, at the Museum of Art. One day later was an all-Wunderlich program played by former students at the Domkirche St. Marien on the four-manual Beckerath organ. And finally, on May 8 Heinz Wunderlich played an ambitious program of Reger and Wunderlich at St. Michaelis.

Without promising anything, and with my heart in my throat, I said I would bring my music and organ shoes and we would see what happened. When I arrived, I practiced for a couple of days on Wunderlich’s own three-manual organ, which was in the lower level of his home. I was still feeling insecure about the music when Wunderlich came down and wanted to hear the piece. In my nervousness, I must have played very badly, but he was always kind and offered suggestions. Finally, he took me to St. Mariens for a lesson on the large Beckerath organ. The organ was located in a rear gallery, which must have been 30 feet off the main floor. He would help me set up registrations and then take the long walk down to the main floor to listen. Returning to the gallery, we made changes, and moved to the next section, always checking on what it sounded like downstairs. I learned a lot about his ideas of registration and playing in an acoustically live building. Heinz Wunderlich was very precise. He wanted all of my old markings erased. Changes and balances were carefully worked out as well as precise fingerings, paying attention to every marking in the score.

I was thankful for the time and attention he was willing to give me, all this at the age of 80 and having several concerts of his own to prepare. At the same time it was terrifying to be performing with the composer himself sitting in the audience. For me it was the experience of a lifetime.

Later that year, I arranged an American tour for him. It included five concerts at churches where former students were playing and a concert at the Methuen Memorial Music Hall where I had heard him play 38 years before. Among other things, he played his newly composed Sonata über Jona; his wife Nelly joined him for his Variationa Twelvetonata for Violin and Organ, also newly composed, and some Rhein-berger sonatas for violin and organ, which brought tears to my eyes. For his 85th birthday in 2004 I wrote another article about him, this time published in Choir & Organ magazine, and once again traveled to Hamburg to play his newly written Emotion and Fugue in the all-Wunderlich program. This program was again on a large four-manual Beckerath, but this time in St. Petri, where former student Thomas Dahl is the director of music. Again, Heinz Wunderlich was of great assistance with interpretation and registration. 

In 2009, for Wunderlich’s 90th birthday, I again played the Fuga Variata on the St. Petri organ along with other former students. Although Professor Wunderlich was noticeably frail, he still played an ambitious recital on the Kemper Organ at St. Jacobi. Unfortunately, it was the last time I would hear him play. 

 

Epilogue

For me, knowing Heinz Wunderlich, one of the 20th century’s greatest virtuosos, became a transforming event in my life. To know the man, the gentle teacher, the consummate musician, the loving husband and father, gracious host, and the appreciation he had for my performances and articles, was reward in itself. But the real transformative aspect was the music. My interest in contemporary music expanded tenfold. His organ works alone have occupied me for over 20 years and constantly present me with ever-new challenges. In addition, I have been able to listen to performances of works that I will never play—works for organ and orchestra, for chorus, and his masterful improvisations. His interest has also given me the chance to travel to Germany and perform on organs that I had only dreamed of, as well as make many new friends. Thank you, dear man. I miss you.

 

 

Edie Johnson

From saucy tangos to chant-based works, expertly fashioned counterpoint, and everything in between, the organ works of Pamela Decker run the gamut of style and variety. Her compositions and recordings have received high and well-deserved acclaim in recent years. Decker has had a variety of experiences that shape her compositions—from theater organist to Fulbright Scholar. She has been commissioned by regional and national American Guild of Organists conventions, and her works have been performed around the world.

 

Background

I first became acquainted with Decker’s works as a graduate student at Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University. My professor, Larry Smith, suggested that I learn her three-movement work, Río abajo río (1999, Wayne Leupold Editions, WL610004). I became enamored with the excitement and fire in the music, as well as her colorful, yet accessible harmonic language. Since then, I have learned several other Decker works, for both church and concert use. In addition, I had the privilege of premiering her first organ concerto, El Tigre, at the Region IV AGO convention in 2011. 

Music and movement have always had a close connection to Decker. While she did not grow up in a family of musicians, her earliest memories are of a home in which music frequently came from the record player, and she danced and performed living-room gymnastics whenever it was on. As a child, Decker and her family lived in Falls Church, Virginia, where her father was a naval research contractor. They attended a Methodist church there, and Pamela recounts this story:  

 

I recall a Sunday morning when my parents were taking me to church, and we were about to enter the narthex. Someone at that moment opened the big double doors to the sanctuary, and I remember an expanse of white wood and columns and a torrent of organ music pouring down the center aisle. I was entranced, and I thought that I would very much like to play the grand instrument that could produce those sounds.

Her parents thought she might have a specific talent for dance, but when at nine she was given the choice among dance, ice skating, or music, she quickly and without hesitation chose music lessons. She has had formal lessons in piano, organ, and harpsichord. Her first organ teacher was Jean Morgan, a concert organist with a large studio in Alexandria, Virginia.

When Decker was thirteen, her father received a promotion that required the family to move to the San Francisco Bay Area. This move was significant to her development as a composer, as it introduced her to the world of the theater organ. Her first teacher in the Bay Area, Galen Piepenburg, was trained as both a classical and theater organist. The Avenue Theater in the Bay Area hired organists to play half-hour recitals before movies began. By the time she was fifteen, Decker was showcased as one of these performers. She both made her own arrangements of “twenties-style” music and used reputable versions by other performers. The theater also hosted concerts by renowned organists from around the world. One of the recitals she considered memorable was by Korla Pandit, a theater organist from India. Decker’s experience with the theater organ scene greatly influenced her desire to create and “re-create.”

Decker moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to Stanford University, where she studied with Herbert Nanney, an experienced concert organist and a published composer. While an undergraduate at Stanford, she had a church position and made the decision to focus on classical training. As she developed, she concentrated equally on both composition and performance practice. Her desire to study performance practice led to a Fulbright scholarship to study in Lübeck, Germany, at the Musikhochschule Lübeck. This experience gave her the opportunity to learn from and perform on many historic instruments. In addition, she was able to travel to Paris and even spent a day with Jean Langlais and Marie Louise Jaquet-Langlais. 

Decker recounts this fond memory of her day with Langlais: 

 

In the early evening, Mr. Langlais had to go to Ste-Clotilde to play for a funeral. He took me with him. On the streetcar, he kept pointing to landmarks and telling me to look at them. Even though he was blind, he knew exactly where everything was and how to tell me important bits of information in connection with what he was pointing out. I realized that I was on a “sightseeing” tour with Jean Langlais! At the church, there was some time before the service, so he allowed me to play several pieces. I recall that I played the Bach 9/8 Prelude and Fugue in C Major, and some of my own music. It is a treasured memory for me that he said very positive things about my work in both areas and encouraged me to continue composing as well as performing.

 

Harmonic style

The music of French organ composers has had a tremendous influence on Decker’s compositional output and her tonal language. She is particularly fond of Olivier Messiaen’s music. His modes of limited transposition have influenced the development of her own individually designed synthetic modes. The most influential of Messiaen’s works for Decker has been La Nativité du Seigneur. In learning and studying this work, she was struck by the lush harmonies and rich chromaticism that the modes yield. This, in turn, inspired Decker to explore and discover her own unique harmonic language. 

Study of Messiaen’s modes has led Decker to transform church modes, adding one or two pitches to the collection of a specific mode. She frequently incorporates a transformed Dorian that adds F-sharp and B-flat to the basic Dorian mode. (See Example 1.) One of her other favorite modes to employ is a Phrygian mode that adds F-sharp and C-sharp. These are just two examples of the synthetic modes that Decker works with, and she believes that each one has its own “pitch-class personality.” She works with the modes both individually and in combination and finds it interesting to use this “modal material within the context of designing original forms.”

Example 2 shows an example of the synthetic Dorian, used in mm. 64–70 of Albarda, the first movement of Flores del Desierto (1998, Wayne Leupold Editions, WL610006). Decker’s synthetic Phrygian mode, which adds F-sharp and C-sharp to the basic Phrygian mode, is shown in Example 3. Decker uses this mode in Jesu, dulcis memoria (2011, Wayne Leupold Editions, WL710010), mm. 64–69, as shown in Example 4. 

Decker has also worked with scale types in flamenco patterns (see Example 5). The intervallic patterns of the flamenco modes play a prominent role in her new work, Fanueil Hall (2013, Wayne Leupold Editions, WL610014), which was premiered at the 2014 AGO national convention, held in Boston. 

 

Rhythmic influences 

Messiaen’s creative rhythmic structures also have inspired Decker’s compositions. Decker states, “Messiaen also choreographs expressive nuance through additive rhythms and multi-metrical constructions. I have also found this element to be influential; I have used meter changes and shifting accents to place emphasis in my music.” For example, this passage in 2/4 from the final movement of Río abajo río, shown in Example 6, illustrates these shifting accents, which provide a strong syncopated effect. 

The captivating rhythms that Decker employs are also largely influenced by Latin American dances. She first became interested in Spanish and South American music after hearing Alicia de Larrocha perform Iberia by Isaac Albéniz. After this discovery, she began to immerse herself in Spanish and South American literature. She has done much reading and research into Latin American dance forms. She has incorporated many dance rhythms into her works, including the samba, charrada, rondena, tarantella, boliviana, and many others. Example 7 shows an example of a tango rhythm from the third movement of Río abajo río.

 

Other South American Influences

Another influence on Decker has been Ástor Piazzolla, a composer from Argentina who studied in Paris with Nadia Boulanger. Boulanger encouraged Piazzolla to compose works that would reflect his native Argentinian culture. Piazzolla was a virtuosic performer on the bandonéon, the main instrument of the South American tangueros (students of tango). Decker states: 

 

This instrument was invented in Germany in 1854 by Heinrich Band, as a substitute for a pipe organ for churches without the financial resources to purchase and install a pipe organ. The instrument gradually made its way to South America, as musicians emigrated from Europe, and after the passage of time, it was adopted by the tangueros and the street musicians. Thus, there is a connection between Piazzolla’s primary instrument (he was a virtuoso-level performer on the bandonéon) and my own primary instrument. I love the fact that there is precedent for performing tango music at the organ.  

 

Registrations

While Decker’s harmonic language and rhythmic energy are progressive, she tends to stay with traditional use of the organ in terms of registration. She uses registrational changes as both a “color and form-defining factor.” Her scores are very clear in calling for specific registrations that are adaptable to most instruments. As a performer, she understands the need to make registration changes work on both electro-pneumatic and mechanical-action instruments, and as a composer takes into account that sometimes a combination action may not be available and that the performer must pull stops by hand. Her registrations might call for combinations such as a voix celeste accompanying a solo reed, a clear plenum, or combinations up to full organ. 

 

Traditional forms

Decker also employs more traditional forms, such as the prelude and fugue. She composes counterpoint as a “procedural basis” and expands the form with contemporary harmonic and formal structures. She also frequently integrates Gregorian chant into her works. Her collection entitled Retablos incorporates the chants Pange lingua, Ubi caritas, and Victimae paschali laudes. Jesu, Dulcis Memoria is a prelude and fugue based on the chant for which it is titled; Example 8 shows a passage from the prelude, and Example 9 a passage from the fugue. 

German chorale and Protestant hymn tunes also play a major role in Decker’s works. She has written a chorale prelude on Herzlich tut mich verlangen, and her collection On This Day (2009, Wayne Leupold Editions, WL610005) features popular Advent and Christmas tunes such as Personent Hodie, Antioch, and Cranham. On This Day would be an excellent collection with which to begin studying Decker’s works; Example 10 shows a passage from her setting of Antioch.

Many of Decker’s works can serve both a concert and a liturgical purpose. Her compositions are both engaging and accessible to a wide audience, especially when the audience is educated about the construction and program behind the piece. Decker states:

 

I believe that music should have intellectual substance, pure emotion, and undeniable communicative ability in equal measure. Even if a passage or section sounds improvisatory, I think that upon analysis, a performer or theorist should be able to discern evidence of substance and “intelligent design,” if I may borrow a phrase from another discipline. I also think that while program notes are fascinating, they should not be necessary for the composition to achieve its goal of making a visceral impact on the listener.

For those who have never explored Decker’s works, I encourage you to investigate her compositions. Pamela Decker has recorded her own works on the following Loft recordings: Decker Plays Decker: Sacred to Secular (Volume 1), LRCD 1053, Decker Plays Decker: Desert Wildflowers (Volume 2), LRCD 1076, and Decker Plays Decker: Suite Dreams and Fantasies (Volume 3), LRCD 1130 (www.gothic-records.com). A complete list of her works may be found at her website, pamela-decker.com.

 

Edie Johnson is music associate and organist at Church Street United Methodist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee. She also teaches private organ and courses in organ literature and church music at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.

Steven Egler

Steven Egler is Professor of Music Emeritus at Central Michigan University, Mt. Pleasant, where he taught organ for 41 years. He is also director of music and organist emeritus at First Presbyterian Church, Mt. Pleasant, where he served for 35 years (1976–2011).  He is currently dean of the Saginaw Valley Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.

This interview with Morgan and Mary Simmons of Evanston, Illinois, longtime musicians (1968–1996) at Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, reveals their strong relationship as evidenced in their 65-year marriage (1953–present). We met on July 29, 2017, at their home in Evanston, where they have lived for 50 years.

They discussed their rare collaboration in several positions throughout the years, and they shared wonderful anecdotes about their time as students at the Union Theological Seminary School of Sacred Music, various church positions, and music making in general. The Simmonses shared the importance of their respective families and the influence that their families had on them and their careers as individuals and as musicians.Morgan and Mary also revealed insights into working with two high-profile pastors—the third and fourth respectively—of Fourth Presbyterian Church:  Dr. Elam Davies (1968–1984) and Dr. John Buchanan (1985–2012). 

Thanks to Ken Wuepper of Saginaw, Michigan, for audio technology support, and to Morgan and Mary Simmons for their careful editing assistance.

 

Steven Egler: Morgan, let’s begin with you telling us about your childhood and formative years.

Morgan Simmons: I was born in Andalusia, Alabama, April 6, 1929. Although I only had one sibling, my extended family was huge with 50 first cousins. Both of my parents came from large families, and my paternal grandmother was the oldest of 16, 14 of whom I knew.

Since both my grandmothers lived across the street from each other, and I lived only a block away, I got a lot of attention growing up.

 

Were you the oldest?

Morgan: No, my sister was three years older, and for both of us family was exceedingly important.

 

Recall for us your earliest musical experiences.

Morgan: I sang in the children’s choir of the First Methodist Church of Andalusia, and I started piano lessons when I was in the fourth grade with a very old-fashioned lady, Josie Lyons, who taught piano in the ladies’ parlor of the Methodist Church. She was a real taskmaster. If we were late to lessons we did not have a lesson, but we were still charged. She was also the organist and choir director of the church and wore very interesting attire for Sunday worship—a white satin surplice with a purple full-length skirt and matching scull cap for winter months; a white lace surplice with black skirt and matching cap for the summer.

I also took up clarinet but never perfected it; then at age 15, I began organ study. This opened an exciting new chapter in my life.

 

Mary, please tell us about your early years.

Mary Simmons: I was born February 22, 1930, in Centralia, Illinois. When I was six, we moved to Carbondale, Illinois, and I had a wonderful childhood with my sister who was five years older than I and my brother who was three years older. 

Unlike Morgan, I did not come from a large family. My mother was one of six children, and my father was an only child. This was the family that I mostly knew.

When we moved to Carbondale, I became a piano student of Helen Mathis, later Vogler, who was head of the piano department at Southern Illinois University. I studied with her until I graduated from high school, and it was good that she took such great interest in me.

When I was in the eighth grade, my mother thought that I was getting bored with the piano and suggested that I would like to study organ.

I studied organ at the Presbyterian Church in Carbondale with Eloise Thalman, who was a very good organist and took me under her wing. I loved it from the first day that I started, and during the summer, I got up early and rode my bicycle to the church to practice because I loved it so much. 

After having had a few lessons that same summer, Mrs. Thalman came to my home and said she would be taking her husband to the Mayo Clinic and asked me to play for church. What a shock that was! From that point on, I was hooked.

Morgan: Mary didn’t say that she has perfect pitch, which was discovered before she was six years old. Her native abilities are far greater than mine: I’m not a gifted, natural musician and have always had to work for everything I’ve done, so that has figured in our musical experiences through the years. 

It has occurred to me that one of the big factors that has enhanced my life is related to World War II. My father was in the military, and when I was a junior in high school we moved from Andalusia to Fort Bragg, near Fayetteville, North Carolina, which was the beginning of a totally new experience for me.

Shortly after arriving at the army base, I had the good fortune of studying organ with a chaplain’s assistant, Lee Sistare, who was a graduate of Union Theological Seminary’s School of Sacred Music where he had been a student of Clarence Dickinson. He introduced me to Dr. D.’s Technique and Art of Organ Playing and plied me with stories of church music in the “Big Apple.”  

During my stay at Fort Bragg, I sang in the Chapel Choir. The chapel was only two doors from our quarters and had a small, two-manual Hilgreen-Lane organ where I was able to practice. 

Following my two years in Fayetteville, I returned to Andalusia for my senior year in high school and had lessons with another Union graduate, Henry Whipple, who lived in Montgomery. I took the bus every other Saturday to Montgomery for lessons with Mr. Whipple, who had been a student of Palmer Christian and Clarence Dickinson. On those same Saturdays, I had piano lessons with the  distinguished pianist Lily Byron Gill. She had studied with Moszkowski in Paris and was a teacher of the old school, who taught Czerny and Hanon, so I was exceedingly fortunate. 

 

How did you learn about DePauw University?

Morgan: A young chaplain, who was from Indiana and knew about my interest in organ and church music, recommended that I consider DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. I had never heard of the school, yet I was determined to go to Union once I had completed my bachelor’s degree. I was granted a Methodist scholarship and thus attended DePauw for my undergraduate study. 

I appeared in Greencastle green as a gourd, having taken the train from Alabama. Alas, I arrived without my wallet! It had worked its way out my hip pocket and went to Chicago on the Monon railroad. Believe it or not, it was returned to me a couple of days later with all the money still in it, so it was another of those serendipitous experiences that has graced my whole life.

My first-year organ teacher was Bernice Mozingo, a graduate of DePauw, and who had studied with Parvin Titus and Palmer Christian. The organ professor at DePauw, Dr. Van Denman Thompson, was very particular about taking first-year students, but at the beginning of my second year, I began my study with him. He was unlike any musician I had ever known.  

A larger-than-life individual, he graduated from New England Conservatory in one year, took postgraduate work at Harvard, and was teaching college in Arkansas at age 19. He came to DePauw when he was 20 and taught for 47 years. 

His wife, Eula Mae, blind from age three, was a very accomplished musician in her own right. Together they had seven children, the youngest of whom they named Lynnwood in honor of the person known by many as America’s greatest organist, Lynnwood Farnam. 

He was also teaching and performing Messiaen and other contemporary composers long before many other organists of the day. 

The organ used for teaching was in Gobin Memorial Methodist Church, a four-manual vintage Kimball instrument with fabulous strings, and before I arrived, the Aeolian-Skinner Company had added an unenclosed positive. In 1943, a two-manual “Baroque” organ was installed in the balcony, so we had the best of both worlds.

In terms of teaching, he was unique. During an opening conversation at the console, he would sit facing the stop jams and comment on my playing; then he would leave me alone while walking up and down the aisles of the church, return and say, “I think you’d be better to put your third finger on the B-flat.”  

He had an incredible ear. A fellow student said he called up to him during one lesson, “The vacuum cleaner is sounding a flat F sharp. You’ll have to play a little louder.” Besides being a wonderful teacher, he was a fabulous performer and improviser. 

Marcel Dupré came to the campus to play in 1948, and l listened in the back of the church while Dr. Thompson demonstrated the organ for Dupré by improvising a lengthy theme and variations. Upon its conclusion, Dupré stood up and shouted, “Prima, prima!” 

I had wonderful experiences at DePauw and made life-long friends with such people as Charles Heaton and Maureen and Art Carkeek. It was here that I was introduced to the A.G.O. There was a student chapter, and I got my feet wet during my senior year when I served as dean.

 

Mary, please tell us about your college experience and study.

Mary: When I graduated from high school, I was determined to continue organ study but also piano. I went to the University of Illinois because that was a tradition in my family. My grandfather, my father, my mother, my mother’s brothers and sister, and their spouses, as well as my sister and brother and their spouses, were all graduates, so it was a given that I would join the “club.”

I started out as a double major in piano and organ, but after two years I decided to drop the piano to a minor and really concentrate on organ. My teacher was Paul Pettinga, a fine pedagogue and a graduate of the Oberlin Conservatory.

When I graduated, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do; however, my brother, who was a ministerial student at Union Theological Seminary in New York, told me about the School of Sacred Music there.

I interviewed with Hugh Porter, was accepted, and attended from 1951–1953. That was the beginning of a wonderful relationship with Hugh Porter and his wife Ethel, which was enhanced by experiences and the varied opportunities that the city had to offer.

 

Was two years the typical amount of time that it took to complete the Master of Sacred Music degree, and did it include fieldwork as well?

Mary: Yes.

 

What was Union Seminary like when you arrived in 1951?

Morgan: Mary and I both arrived at Union the same year—the fall of 1951—and were, of course, overawed by the city. It was the “golden age,” both for the seminary and for the city of New York in terms of church music. Reinhold Niebuhr and Paul Tillich were both at their prime as professors at Union.

Hugh Porter was director of the School of Sacred Music, having succeeded Clarence and Helen Dickinson, who were still around and still teaching. They came on Wednesday, which was known as D-Day. 

Mrs. Dickinson was quite a character and was the first woman to have received a PhD from Heidelberg University. She was said to be able to talk the horns off of a Billy goat and that she had talked her way into a required course that had been previously closed to female students. She wrote her doctoral dissertation, in German, on Italian art of the Renaissance. 

The Dickinsons taught a course about the history of sacred music, and Dr. D. taught
a course on oratorio solo accompaniment.

Both Mary and I studied with Hugh Porter whose style of teaching was quite a contrast to what I was accustomed. He was very much on-the-bench and over your shoulder while humming and tapping rhythms and penciling, and it took some time to get used to his more hands-on approach.

 

Would you liken him to anyone more recent, such as Russell Saunders’s style of teaching?

Morgan: Perhaps. He had studied with Lynnwood Farnam, a perfectionist of the first order. I have no first-hand knowledge of Russell’s style, but I had the good fortune to study one summer with Arthur Poister following my doctoral degree. With him the music was paramount—the technique secondary!

I also studied with Marilyn Mason who emphasized technique: careful fingering and pedaling. With Dr. Thompson you learned by osmosis!

In New York, one could experience an oratorio every Sunday. At that time, Dickinson was at the Brick Church, Frederick H. Candlyn was at St. Thomas, Harold Friedell was at St. Bartholomew’s, Norman Coke-Jephcott was at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, Robert Baker was at First Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, and Vernon DeTar was at Ascension. DeTar was very smart: he presented his oratorios on Monday evenings, thus avoiding competition.

Those were exceedingly memorable occasions; I remember DeTar conducting Honegger’s King David with the Witch of Endor being portrayed by Madeleine Marshall, who was the diction teacher at Union and a wonderful person. We became close friends, and she subsequently came to Evanston to do a program for our A.G.O. chapter. It was a heady time to be in New York. No question!

 

Mary, what can you say about your time at Union?

Mary: My experience was a little different from Morgan’s. He more was interested in the theological studies than I was, although I loved being there and making friends. We had chapel five mornings a week and, like many of us who had jobs related to the seminary, I was in charge of the choir robes. I was constantly cleaning the robes, removing candle wax, and replacing collars. 

I especially remember having a course from Harold Friedell on writing descants. I loved doing that and composed some pretty good ones as a result. I also studied composition with Norman Lockwood for a very short time.  

During my second year, I served a small church in the Bronx with an integrated congregation. In spite of the fact there were so few children in the area, they wanted me to start a children’s choir, so we scheduled the rehearsals for after school. It was an extra trip for me, because I had to take two separate subway lines and a bus to get to the church. 

I did, however, manage to get a small choir to perform some decent anthems. It was a learning experience for me, and I especially enjoyed the children. 

When Morgan and I were married, one of the fathers brought some of the children to our wedding. It was such a thrill to have them there.

 

Morgan, please tell us about your fieldwork experience at Union.

Morgan: For two years, I was fortunate to serve a Lutheran church in New Rochelle, which had had a Union person before me. We were able to perform Messiah with outside soloists (“and I accompanied,” whispered Mary). 

For the first time I had the joy and privilege of working with children’s choirs. Years later after going to Fourth Church, I realized how much I missed this phase of music ministry.

It was a tradition that the Porters invited the entire student body to their cottage in Connecticut for a retreat at the end of each academic year. That’s when Mary and I became serious with one another. The following October, we became engaged and made plans to be married in James Chapel at the seminary. Because our parents and many friends would be attending our commencement, we set Sunday, May 17, 1953, as our wedding date. Dr. Lewis J. Sherrill, author of a powerful book, The Struggle of the Soul, and my spiritual advisor, performed the ceremony. Like the Porters, he and Mrs. Sherrill became like family to us.

Hugh played for our wedding, and our reception was held on the 15th floor of Riverside Church. We left the city for our honeymoon in pouring rain, drove up the Hudson to a rustic cottage, and returned Tuesday for commencement to receive our Master’s degrees. You can imagine the flurry of activity surrounding all of these events!

Following graduation in the summer of 1953, Mary and I were named as musicians for the first Montreat Conference in North Carolina. We accepted this invitation with the provision that, if I were drafted, I would not be able to fulfill my obligation to the conference. Sure enough, I was drafted and had to return to Alabama to report for duty, leaving Mary alone to complete the term. Upon my return to Alabama, my father was diagnosed with a serious illness for which I got a month’s deferment. 

I was in the infantry and trained at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in the crack platoon of the division. The only way that I got through the ordeal was to rely on my sense of humor and say to myself, “If only so-and-so could see me now, crawling with a rifle on my belly under live ammunition!” We were known as the top unit with an A number-one record for performance. 

 

What do you mean by “crack”?

Morgan: “Crack” refers to the discipline that was used in an attempt to “break” (or “crack”) you, but I got through it. 

As fate would have it, Frederick Kent, who had been in the class ahead of me at DePauw, worked in the Third Army Chaplain’s Office at Fort Jackson. He asked me where I would like to be stationed after basic training, and I said Fort Benning. This was the closest base to my home in Alabama and where my sister and brother-in-law were stationed. Being another serendipitous experience and following those eight weeks of hell, I ended up with a plum job at Fort Benning. I was able to practice, took a speed-reading course, and enrolled in a French course, knowing that I was going to need it for my doctorate.

 

Mary, where were you at this time?

Mary: I was with Morgan’s parents in Andalusia. Upon Morgan’s return home after basic training, his father brought out a bottle of champagne for celebration.

Describe your time in Columbus, Georgia, and your activities there?

Mary: After this, we moved to Columbus, adjacent to Fort Benning, where I got a job on the post and did some organ subbing in the area.

Morgan: During that time, we got involved in the church music life of Columbus and were instrumental in founding the Columbus Chapter of
A.G.O., for which I served as its first sub-dean.

 Since I was stationed there for 18 months, we also determined that, if Mary got pregnant by a certain time, we’d be able to take advantage of the Army hospital. It worked and our son, David, was born on May 5, 1955. We call it a historic birthday: 5555!

I was released from the Army that June and then attended summer school in New York to begin work on my doctorate at Union. 

 

Please tell our readers about your year (1955–1956) in England where you attended the Royal School of Church Music.

Morgan: Prior to separation from the Army, I applied for a Fulbright Scholarship, and the following September, Mary and I and our four-month-old son sailed for England where I began study at the Royal School of Church Music at Croydon. At that time and for many years, the Royal School was housed in Addington Palace, which once served as the summer palace of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Mary, David, and I had gracious accommodations on the second floor of the magnificent edifice. 

Cyril V. Taylor, a very fine biblical and musical scholar, was the warden of the School. He had been with the BBC Radio Ministry, and at the RSCM, he taught courses on psalmody and hymnody. This is where I became interested in the subject of my doctoral dissertation: Latin Hymnody: Its Resurgence in English Usage. Subsequently, I researched the translation of Latin hymns into English and did a fair amount of research at the British Museum in London.

I had a few organ lessons with Sir William Harris who, at that time, was organist to the Queen at Windsor. I took the Langlais Suite Brève to one lesson, and after hearing one page, he shut the book and said, “I will not listen to such music.”

Then I had the audacity to think I could study with Herbert Howells at the Royal College of Music. During our initial session and in no uncertain terms, he informed me that I wasn’t ready for him!

He sent me to William Lovelock, professor at Trinity College in London. Like Van Denman Thomspon, he was also a mind-blowing musician. He could write out a melody, harmonize it by writing the alto line, then the tenor, and then the bass, just one voice at a time. So I had almost a year’s study of basic harmony with Lovelock, which complemented my undergraduate and graduate school experiences. 

Gerald Knight, director of the Royal School, was a gracious host to Allen Sever (another Fulbright Scholar) and me and took us on trips to Ely, York, and other cathedral cities. 

I also had the amazing opportunity of hearing Lessons and Carols at Salisbury and King’s College, Cambridge.

We were introduced to Prince Philip during a reception for all Fulbright scholars at the English-Speaking Union. Another time, Sir William McKie, organist at Westminster Abbey, entertained Mary and me for tea. These encounters were among the highlights of our time in England. 

 

After being in England for a year, you returned to Union where you pursued your Doctor of Sacred Music degree.

Morgan: Yes, but unfortunately, we had to shorten our time in England because of my father’s illness, so we returned four weeks earlier than had been scheduled. 

My father died in July 1956, and we returned to Union that September where I began my doctoral study. 

I also assumed the position of minister of music at the Bound Brook Presbyterian Church in Bound Brook, New Jersey, succeeding our friend, Charles Heaton, who had just completed his doctorate at Union. It turned out to be a wonderful experience since the church had a long history of fine church music going back to the days of Ifor Jones, esteemed conductor of the Bach Choir Festival in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

 

Of mention on the current website of Bound Brook Presbyterian Church is: “Many of our former directors of music have become of note in their field. Ifor Jones who was here in the 1930s became the third director of the Bach Bethlehem Choir and has edited many Bach cantatas and anthems. Morgan Simmons was here in the 1950s and went to and retired from Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago. Other noted names are Charles Heaton and Clifford Case, former U. S. Senator.”

Morgan: Thanks for doing your homework! I had not known of Senator Case’s relation to the church, which is the third oldest church in the state of New Jersey, founded in 1688, and has missed only one service in its history. That was when a battle was being fought during the Revolutionary War on the church grounds. 

We had a blizzard one year while we were there, but we held church with 17 in the choir and 50 in the congregation. I was never so proud of a choir!

Ifor Jones and E. Power Biggs had been contemporaries at the Royal Academy of Music in London, and both came to the United States in 1930. Although Jones was an organist, Biggs excelled in organ and Jones in choral work.

The Bound Brook Church offered abundant opportunities to put into practice what I had already learned and was continuing to learn. 

We had a large children’s choir program of six choirs and enjoyed annual subscriptions to children’s concerts in New York City for six Saturdays each year. They heard orchestral music, took boat trips, and learned about city life—a testament to the generous support of the congregation.

There was a good choir library, also. During our first year, we did the Bach Magnificat, about which the chairman of the music committee was initially very uncertain, but she was delighted that we could actually “pull off” something like that! 

 

Was Mary with you in that position?

Morgan: Oh, yes. Mary was always there accompanying.

 

So Mary, were you playing all of those oratorio accompaniments before they became published scores for organ?

Mary: Yes. I always loved accompanying, even in high school.

Morgan: Our second and third children were born while we were in New Jersey—one between children’s choir rehearsals on a Saturday morning, and the other between church services on a Sunday morning. 

 

How convenient!

Mary: We had a good apartment that came with the job, good train service into New York, and made lifelong friends.

Morgan: At Union, I was studying during the summer with Marilyn Mason (as mentioned above) who was also working on a doctorate. Plus, I studied with John Huston, organist at First Presbyterian Church.

Also mentioned earlier, my doctoral dissertation centered on Latin hymnody. It included the study of plainsong hymns being introduced to the Church of England during the middle and latter part of the nineteenth century.

The dissertation was accepted by Oxford University Press in New York but was rejected by the London office, so it was never published. Mary did all the typing of the 300-page document, and I penned in more than a 100 musical examples in four copies, no less.

 

Did you include footnotes?

Morgan: Oh yes!  

Mary: And I was pregnant at the time!

Morgan: In addition to the dissertation requirement, I had to write annotated program notes for six organ concerts and six choral programs.

 

Now, tell us about your move to Evanston and your job at First United Methodist Church.

Morgan: After six years at the church in New Jersey, I received a joint appointment here in Evanston at First Methodist Church, which became First United Methodist Church, and Garrett Seminary, which became Garrett- Evangelical Theological Seminary. That appointment began in January 1963, and I succeeded Austin Lovelace in both of those positions. Once again, we had the opportunity to do excellent repertory at First Methodist. 

Before Alice Millar Chapel was built in 1962, the church was closely associated with Northwestern. It was the site of many of the university choral concerts as well other musical events.

Shortly after we arrived, the church was the venue for an all Randall Thompson concert with Randall Thompson himself in attendance. On many occasions, we collaborated with the choral forces at Northwestern.  

Mary was technically not on the staff, but she did all of the organ accompanying for the church. We made many close friends, both at the church and at Northwestern.

 

Mary, how did you deal with the orchestral reductions to piano that were then the only available keyboard scores for these large choral works. Did you think that this was a difficult task at all?

Mary:  We did consult the orchestral scores, and I could pull out things that were important. Most of the time, however, I used the accompaniments in the vocal score in order to figure out what should be highlighted.

Morgan: One of Mary’s specialties was the Brahms Requiem, which we performed both in Evanston and later at Fourth Church. In addition to the organ, we added timpani and harp. 

With other scores, such as the Mozart Requiem, we used orchestra, although the first time we did the Mozart at Fourth Church, we used just the organ.

 

Speaking just a bit ahead of ourselves, what was the condition of the organ when you first went to Fourth Church? 

Morgan: It was the original 1914 E. M. Skinner organ that had undergone some additions and changes in the late 1940s, but there had been no mechanical changes. There were no general pistons, yet it had three master pistons that controlled divisional pistons number four, five, and six but not the couplers. We also used one of those master pistons as the general cancel since there was none, and it was important for silence. Needed sound could be provided by the crescendo pedal! 

That first year, Mary played the Mozart Requiem without general pistons, and it was quite something. Also, the organ had 230 dead notes when we went there!

 

Why did you move from First United Methodist, Evanston, to Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago?

Morgan: Essentially, I was not reappointed to my position at the church in Evanston, not on musical grounds but rather ministerial difficulties. There was much turmoil going on in the church at the time, and I was going to be without a job. 

One Sunday in June 1968, a distinguished gentleman appeared after the postlude and introduced himself as chairman of the music committee of Fourth Presbyterian Church. I knew that Fourth Church was looking for an organist, but I also knew that it was the sort of place where one did not apply. He said that they were looking for a new organ and wanted to know what my opinion was. He gave to me the names of three companies that they were considering, complimented me on the service, and left.

That afternoon I received a call from Elam Davies, pastor of Fourth Church, who said that Mr. McLeod and his wife had attended First Methodist Church that morning and liked what they heard. He then invited me to have lunch with him the next day and told me that they were looking for a new organist. We met for an interview, after which he offered me the job. He said that he had plenipotentiary power and was able to do this if I was interested. I told him that the offer was very enticing, but that I had an appointment with a pastor from another church and was not yet in a position to make a commitment.

The next evening I met with Louis Evans, Jr., pastor of the Presbyterian Church in La Jolla, California, who did not have plenipotentiary power and who was not in a position to offer me the job.

The next morning, Elam called me and inquired where this church was. I told him, and he soon got back to me after having looked up the statistics and said, “It looks like a good church, but there’s only one Fourth Church!” I told him that I thought he had majored in persuasion in seminary, and the rest is history. I never had a contract, never had a secretary.

 

What about the administration of the music program at Fourth Presbyterian?

Morgan: I did all of that myself as well as all of the church publications for a time. I did all of my own typing, along with Mary’s assistance in proofreading.

Right at the beginning of my tenure, the organ was front-and-center: they were definitely going to replace the instrument.

Mary: I’d like to intersperse here that it was Elam who suggested that I should be on the payroll. Thus, I became a regular member of the paid staff as associate organist.

Morgan: Unlike any other pastoral relationship that I had prior to this, there was a bond with Elam right from the beginning. We worked together from 1968 to 1984.

At one point, there were a couple of disgruntled choir members who tried to get me fired. Elam said that, even if there were no choir remaining in the loft, I would still be organist and choirmaster. That’s how strong his support was for me. Even after his retirement to Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, we remained close friends.

One of my biggest responsibilities was developing the choir. Dr. Davies gave me the authority to hire and fire as necessary, but it took me four to five years to create the choral sound that I carried in my head.

The choir was all paid, and as a result, one always exchanges one set of problems for another. Having never worked with a paid singer before, let alone an all-paid choir, I was presented with a whole bevy of challenges and potential for tension in the ranks as well as dealing with prima donnas.

 

Please talk about the installation of the Aeolian-Skinner in 1971.

Morgan: Elam Davies did not have a good experience with the organ in his previous church in Pennsylvania. As a result, he was determined that the organ was going to be an Aeolian-Skinner, and we engaged Robert Baker as the consultant. We also worked closely with then president of the Aeolian-Skinner Company, Donald Gillette.

The organ was finally installed in the fall of 1971 and was essentially crammed into a very tight and remote space. It replaced the E. M. Skinner instrument of fifty-nine ranks with one of 125 ranks, which made for even tighter quarters.

The big problem was that Aeolian-Skinner was essentially bankrupt at the time, and they cut all kinds of corners on the mechanics of the console, including the combination action, which was very unsatisfactory and which eventually had to be completely replaced. Robert Baker played the dedicatory recital, and we had an organ recital series during the rest of our tenure.

 

Considering that you were there as the organ was being planned, what input did you have regarding the stoplist?

Morgan: I insisted that we had to have a Harmonic Flute on the Great, yet I had to fight for it since in those days 8′ stops were not in vogue! I also insisted that we retain the French Horn. We also saved as much of the original E. M. Skinner pipework as possible.

The very first Kleine Erzähler was included in the 1914 organ, and there is a letter in the archives from E. M. Skinner in which he says the following:

 

I have invented a new stop through my study over this case. I wanted to [include] a Flute Celeste of which I’m very fond; [however] it takes a considerable room and I set about finding a way to take less room. I wanted to make the stop softer than usual, so I had some pipes made to a small scale from the model of my Erzähler. The result is a most beautiful combination—I think the most beautiful soft effect I have ever heard. The sheer beauty of this stop gives me a very great asset and adds another to my list of original stops. I call it Kleine Erzähler which means ‘Little Storytellers.’ The stop is so talkative I have always said it named itself. 

 

It has been retained in the new instrument by Quimby Pipe Organs, along with the Harmonic Flute (1971 Aeolian-Skinner, Opus 1516) and the French Horn (1914 Ernest M. Skinner Company, Opus 210).

 

Considering that Rev. John Buchanan was such a prominent figure in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., describe your day-to-day working relationship with him?

Morgan: John and I had a very good relationship, but it acquired a new dimension because it was my first time  to work with a senior pastor who was younger than I.

Initially, I intuited that John felt I was still “wedded” to my relationship with Elam. It took some time to convince him that this was definitely not the case and that he had my total respect, admiration, and affection. He was very supportive of the music ministry, bringing to the equation his own accomplishment as a trumpeter and love for brass music that eventually led to the establishment of a fine ensemble that continues to enhance worship.

Elam was very much a hands-on pastor; for instance, he’d tell the young assistant pastors when they needed to polish their shoes. I missed that with John because there were times when I thought staff needed to be called to account. 

Elam also had a mind like a steel trap, came to staff meeting with no notes, took no notes, and yet quoted verbatim what was said and who had said it. He kept a calendar in his head, and you knew that he was on top of everything that went on in the church. If he trusted you, you had his total support, yet his was a different style of administration as well as a different style of preaching which was very dramatic and frequently went off topic. By contrast John’s sermons were perfectly crafted, informed by insatiable reading, and on point—qualities that led to his international prominence.

 

Upon your retirement from Fourth Church in 1996, the following quote from the Chicago Tribune speaks volumes.

Quote of John Buchanan, Chicago Tribune, March 27, 1996, “Organist Retires On a High Note.”

 

Pastor John Buchanan, while praising his [Morgan’s] ‘impeccable musicianship,’ also noted one job drawback for Simmons. Over 27 years, Simmons had sat quietly, between musical offerings, through ‘2,688 sermons and 1,700 weddings,’ a patience required in few other art forms.

 

Among your many activities, you’ve enjoyed success as a composer. What can you say about your composing?

Morgan: Most of my compositions can be described as “occasional” pieces. For instance, the impetus for Cityscape was the 1992 annual Festival of the Arts at Fourth Church, “Faces of the City.” It is based on a three-note descending scale (C-B-A) which comprises the opening notes of the popular song, “Chicago, Chicago, that toddlin’ town.” Coincidentally, these same pitches are the beginning of Old Hundredth  (sung every Sunday at church) and are incorporated in the concluding movement of the work, “The Magnificent Mile,” an allusion to the location of Fourth Church. 

Reflections for Oboe and Organ was written for Ray Still, renowned former oboist of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and premiered by the two of us in a recital at Fourth Church in 1976. 

Because I am not gifted with a keen ear like Mary, composing is an arduous task, most of which is done at the keyboard. I may get a musical idea, but I don’t commit it to paper without checking it out at the piano. The sounds of the Fourth Church organ and the acoustics of the building also influenced the coloration of many of my compositions.  

Prelude on a Melody of Sowerby features the Kleine Erzhäler and Celeste, which Sowerby would have heard and played. The piece builds to full organ after a blast from the Festival Trumpet, which dates from the 1971 Aeolian-Skinner.

On the occasion of the Fourth Church Morning Choir tour to Britain in 1990, I composed settings of the Canticles and responses for Evensong, which the choir sang at Bath Abbey, a service at which my mentor Cyril Taylor and his wife were in attendance. The highlight of that tour was the singing of his magnificent hymn tune Abbots Leigh in his presence and in that awesome building.  

 

Your hobbies include gardening and needlepoint. Please tell us how you became interested in these wonderful, non-musical activities. (The photos included here of your garden and needlepoint are testaments to your skills and artistry.)

Morgan: I began doing needlepoint at the age of 18 under the guidance of one of my aunts. The gardening goes back to age four when I was given a dedicated space in our yard for my own plantings. Addiction to the plant world has only grown through the years.

The needlepoint includes over 30 pieces for Fourth Church—mainly the chancel cushions, a cross with attendant panels and replicas of stained glass—plus the large 4′ x 4′ tapestry of The Burning Bush which hangs in the new building at Fourth Church and which was created in honor of the musicians who have served the church.

 

Why needlepoint?

Morgan: It is therapy: I don’t sit still well. I guess that it has had something to do with my itchy fingers!

 

In a statement that you sent to me before the interview, you said the following:

 

I was always sensitive to the fact that I had BIG shoes to fill. In Isaac Newton’s words, ‘If I have seen further than others, it was only by standing upon the shoulders of giants.’ I wouldn’t dare to presume that I’ve seen further than others, but I am acutely aware that I have a BIG debt to those who have gone before me.”

 

Because you are a giant in our field, what do you have to say to those of us who are standing on your shoulders?

Morgan: I’ve spoken about the fact that I don’t have outstanding, native musical ability. Whatever success I’ve had has been a combination of managerial and musical abilities. Additionally, I believe that I have a good balance of IQ (Intelligence Quotient) and EQ (Emotional Quotient). 

My IQ is not “off the charts,” but I think that my emotional quotient and my personality play a large part in my ability to relate to people. This is particularly important in working with choirs.

The voice is difficult to teach because you cannot see it, so you have to use your imagination to convey ideas. I would make comparisons between fabrics and sound—beige chiffon or “tweedy” and other such comparisons—to which people could relate. I often quoted the maxim expounded by William Self:  “No one is a soloist; everyone is a soloist,” superb advice for creating a unified quality of sound. This is difficult for me to talk about, and, if anything, it might be perceived to be conceited.

 

I don’t think that you are being conceited. Rather you are being honest and, as you feel comfortable, revealing of your skill in working with choirs.

Morgan: Through the years, I’ve gone through much self-searching and self-evaluation, and I’ve tried to conquer (not necessarily “the demons”) but various issues. I’ve experienced Dalcrose Eurythmics, yoga, acupuncture, and Alexander Technique. 

My sister used to say that the definition of an A-type personality is one who smacks one’s face against the automatic door because you get there before it opens for you. Needless to say, she and I were both A-types and could recognize the trait in each other.

 

Are you saying that this is something you’ve had to conquer over the years?

Morgan: Yes, it’s been both a bane and a blessing—a compulsion to measure up to the goals and responsibilities that I’ve set for myself. There is a big dose of “driveness” in my makeup that comes from my inner drive and my family background.

 

Do you have something else to share about experiencing the world at an early age?

Morgan: As a child, I had the good fortune of being exposed to the outside world. My mother was an incredibly independent woman and well ahead of her time. In 1940, she organized an 8,500-mile driving trip from Alabama to Portland, Oregon, and back. There were seven of us—my mother, sister, and I, an aunt, and a friend of my mother, and her two daughters—piled into a 1938 Buick! 

We stayed with friends and relatives along the way as well as in motor tourist camps (as they were called then), and this was long before the interstate highway system! We saw the Grand Canyon, the World’s Fair Exposition in San Francisco, with Johnny Weissmuller and Esther Williams. Additionally, we visited the Mormon Tabernacle, Carlsbad Caverns, and Yellowstone Park. This was just the start of the world opening up to me.

In the summer of 1949, I joined my family in Germany where my father was stationed. That was the first year of the Salzburg Festival, which we attended, and we also visited Bayreuth where I had the opportunity to play Wagner’s piano.

During our time at Fourth Church, we took the choir on three European tours: Salzburg and Vienna, England, and Italy.  

 

How did the Fourth Presbyterian Church Anthem Series (Hope Publishing Co.) come to be?

Morgan: This was a result of our friendship with George Shorney, who was at that time president of Hope Publishing Co. He became a member of Fourth Church—and I don’t want this to sound immodest—because of the music.

There are 16 anthems in that series: 11 were composed during our years and five were added after our retirement.

 

Who initiated the Morgan and Mary Simmons A.G.O. Scholarship for Young Organists?

Morgan: John Buchanan’s older daughter Diane married Rick Andrew, whose parents, Edith and Edward Andrew, initiated the scholarship with the A.G.O. upon our retirement from Fourth Church in 1996. It is presented annually for students attending a P.O.E. (Pipe Organ Encounter).

I’d like to add that I think the P.O.E. program is one of the best things that has ever happened to the Guild.

 

You also developed an arts series and organ recital series during your tenure at Fourth Church.

Morgan: Before Elam Davies retired, I proposed an arts festival, which he strongly supported by designating funds for its inception. Robert Shaw, Maya Angelou, Dave Brubeck, Gwendolyn Brooks, and other luminaries were featured on this series, which continued until our retirement.

 

Might you comment about the future of our profession?

Morgan: The drop in A.G.O. membership is alarming, yet better and better organists and instruments are appearing on the scene. 

 

What do you think is the reason for the decline in A.G.O. membership?

Morgan: I think that it’s a reflection of society: people are generally not “joiners” anymore.

 

Might it have something to do with the organ’s role in current-day worship?

Morgan: Case in point: some years back I attended a study program at St. Olaf College, and while there I attended a Lutheran church in Northfield. Sitting silent in that church was a fine, tracker instrument while the service was led by piano and guitar. This was disturbing. I’m sorry to say that this is not an uncommon occurrence!

 

Another common thread among those whom I have interviewed is that they have all said the same thing: they became interested in the organ due to their early exposure to the organ in church. Unfortunately, young people are not being attracted to the organ and its music like in the “old days.” This has adversely affected the number of those who are entering the profession.

Morgan: As an early teen, I thought that I was going to enter the ministry, but I eventually realized that my speaking voice was not of the right caliber to occupy the pulpit.

 

Do you have any words of wisdom to pass along to our readers as well as to the next generation of organists and church musicians?

Morgan: I wish that I had some words of wisdom, but I can honestly say that some of these young players are just fabulous. I believe that the future of the profession is in good hands if they can persevere with grace and commitment in the challenging times in which we live.  

 

Thank you, Morgan and Mary. You are the great musicians of the Magnificent Mile!

Lorraine Brugh

Lorraine Brugh is currently resident director of Valparaiso University’s Study Centre in Cambridge, England. She is professor of music and the Frederick J. Kruse Organ Fellow at Valparaiso University, Valparaiso, Indiana.

The interview took place in Mr. Cleobury’s office in Gibbs Hall at King’s College, Thursday, October 31, 2017. At 5:30 that afternoon he led the choir in an Evensong for the Vigil of All Saints, with music by Byrd, Palestrina, and Tomkins.

Since the time of the interview, King’s College has announced that Stephen Cleobury will retire from King’s at the end of the 2018–2019 academic year.

 

Lorraine Brugh: I want our time to include what you’d like to talk about. I’ve thought of four areas I’d like you to comment on and you can add whatever you would like. Those areas are the recent Howells conference, the choir, worship trends, and personal notes. 

Just last weekend, the Herbert Howells Society met here in Cambridge, at St. John’s and at King’s College. You are its current president. What is its mission and current activity?

Stephen Cleobury: There are two organizations, the Herbert Howells Trust and the Herbert Howells Society. Both are, of course, dedicated to preserving the memory of this great man, and the Society is a collection of people who meet together for events such as we’ve just had this past weekend. The Trust is a particular body that allows us to make grants which help to support recording and performance of Howells’s works. These are funded from the royalties from Howells’s estate.  

 

LB: Would you commend particular organ works to American organists? Some play the Psalm Preludes but most of us don’t go much further.

SC: I think the Psalm Preludes are wonderful. There is a tantalizing aspect to those in my mind. Herbert Howells was acting organist at St. John’s College here in Cambridge during the Second World War. If I understand correctly, he used to come up at weekends and preside over the Sunday services. I imagine he might have improvised on the organ at that time. There may be lots and lots of psalm preludes up in the ether somewhere, but that’s just an idle speculation.

I can only speak of the pieces I know.  There are the rhapsodies, of which the best known is the C-sharp minor, which I played at the end of Evensong. That’s a very forthright piece with a quiet middle section, which is actually the opposite of almost all the psalm preludes that start quietly, rise to a climax and go down again.

The first rhapsody does more what the psalm preludes do: starts quietly and rises to a climax and subsides again, and I think it’s a very beautiful piece, completely different from the third. They are the two better known ones, the first and the third. 

Then there is the Paean which is in the same volume as Master Tallis’s Testament. They are the two pieces I know best from the collection Six Pieces for Organ. The Paean is the nearest thing Howells got to writing a toccata. It is very fast moving, with a lot of sixteenth-note movement. The metronome mark is quite fast. I once asked him if he really expected us to play it that fast and he said he did. I don’t know many people who can. And then Master Tallis’s Testamant, which I think is an outstandingly beautiful piece, in a modal G minor, and again rising, but ending with that little epilogue, that little envoi.  

Everything to do with Howells is about organ management. Organ management, while I wouldn’t say it’s a lost art, is now not always understood. We had a wonderful example of organ management by Nathan Laube who came to play here last year. I don’t think I’ve heard the organ managed better than that very often. By that I mean the ability to grade crescendos and diminuendos perfectly and to treat the organ really orchestrally.

I think that one of the things that has happened is that people have become a lot more interested in authentic performance style for Baroque and Classical music. And that’s absolutely fine; I’m completely signed up for that and do my best to keep up with trends in that regard. But I don’t see that it need also lead to an inability to manage the organ orchestrally.

I think a versatile organist should be able to do both of those things. The challenge for playing Howells is precisely that of managing the sound.

The Partita, which was the big piece I played on Saturday, does have some quite technically demanding writing. However, none of it (Howells’s music) is virtuoso writing in the sense that you’re playing something from the great nineteenth-century French repertoire, or later, Messiaen. It’s not technically that difficult.

It requires one to hold in one’s head the right sort of sound world. Because organ registration, certainly in late nineteenth-century, early twentieth-century English usage, was approached rather differently from the way people naturally approach it now. This can be seen in the organ in the Albert Hall as it used to be. Today we have general combinations and sequencers (steppers), so we can be far too fancy with our registrations, too fussy, because it’s so easy to do, whereas in the old days mostly the pistons were pre-set so that you couldn’t easily change them. If you look at the way they were set, you would find that the crescendo was made by drawing the 8′ stops one by one, then the 4′ stops one by one, whereas now people would add a 4′ to a single 8′, then a 2′, and so on. That would have worked well at the Royal Albert Hall.

The nineteenth-century orchestra sounds different from a classical orchestra playing on period instruments; the duty of the organist is to reflect different sound worlds as best as can be done on any given instrument. So that’s why I say you need to hold in your head the sound world as best as you can that Howells had in his head. Listen to recordings of the old Gloucester organ made by Herbert Sumison.

 

LB: Do you think that the German and the north German organ tradition, which builds the sound vertically, has influenced organists today?

SC: Yes, I do. I think you can hear Howells’s music played with too many mixtures. I was talking to Jonathan Clinch about this on Saturday,¹ and the very interesting views he has on this. He quotes Howells on that subject:

a. Players were not using sufficient amount of foundation tone, and

b. People were too busy fiddling around with the registration that they lost a sense of musical pulse.

Pulse was very important to Howells. When I worked at Westminster Abbey, long ago now, in the second half of the 1970s (1974–1978), Howells used to come to services sometimes when we were performing his music. I recorded some of it on the Abbey organ. Before that I arranged for him to come and hear me play his pieces. Everyone tends to think that Howells’s music is smooth and broad and redolent of English pastoral scenes. In fact, he was rather a dynamic and passionate man, and was certainly very keen on rhythmic pulse and clarity of texture. Those are two things that people don’t think of in connection with Howells but he really did want them. This might be interesting for American organists. One of the big differences a British organist finds when he/she goes to the United States to play is that you don’t have the stop called “Great and Pedal Combinations Coupled.” You have an independent pedal and you have to register the pedal separately, which is a really good discipline. Here we can get lazy because we have Great and Pedal Combinations Coupled. Here you can push Great Piston 3 and you get an appropriate pedal registration as well. In American organs you have to deal with the pedal separately. I think in Howells that is really important, since his pedal lines are often independent and care is needed to make them clear.

I remember one thing he pointed out to me is that when he writes a pedal point, he doesn’t just put down bottom D for two pages. It is always repeated, rhythmicized, or jumps the octave. He always wanted the pedal to be very alive. I take care when I play to register the pedal so that you can hear it clearly.

 

LB: Would you like to comment on the organ’s restoration?

SC: We are all thrilled with it. It is still recognizably the King’s organ, but it speaks with a renewed vigor and clarity. I’m particularly pleased about two new ranks, or actually two ranks that were replaced with different ranks. One is a 4′ flute on the Great, which you heard in the second movement of the Partita. It is very beautiful. We also introduced a proper Principal 8′ in the Pedal, which we didn’t have before. That’s given a whole lot more clarity to the Pedal. Now you can play Bach with a proper principal chorus. Formerly we had a Violoncello, a Geigen, a stringy stop. It wasn’t very good in Bach.

 

LB: The English organ was slow to develop the independent pedal. Is this a carry-over from that?

SC: Yes, I think it is. But David Willcocks in the 1960s had a lot of new upperwork put in the Pedal. We have had flutes at 16′, 8′, 4′, and 2′ and a 4′ Principal and mixture in the Pedal for quite a while now.

I arranged shortly after I came to have the Swell double trumpet (16′) made available on the Pedal, which is very useful for playing Bach. You can have the Great and Swell choruses coupled together, but you can access the 16′ reed in the Pedal independently.

Although classical Baroque organ music on an instrument like this is a compromise, there are lots of things you can do to make it have integrity.

 

LB: Both of these things would help with this integrity.

SC: Yes, indeed.

 

LB: You were also organ scholar at St. John’s. Did you overlap with Howells at all?

SC: No, well not at St. John’s. His service there was in the War, when Robin Orr was away on wartime service, just in the way Harold Darke was here at King’s when Boris Ord was away in the Air Force.

 

LB: And George Guest was there when you were there? 

SC: Yes.

 

LB: This collaboration with St. John’s each year—is that a result your being an organ scholar there?

SC: No, you’re talking about the annual Evensong service sung by both choirs. This had been started before I came here as organ scholar at St. John’s, and has probably been going since the early 60s. Originally it was connected with the Cambridge Music Festival, which took place in the summer.

It used to be described as “Evensong sung by the choirs of King’s and St. John’s to mark the opening of the Cambridge Summer Festival.” That has come and gone so we’ve lost that connection, but we have carried on doing the annual service.

 

LB: I think it’s nice to show that collaboration.

SC: Yes. We choose the repertoire carefully. Each choir is obviously slightly different in its style. We find that if you choose big repertoire like we did this year, like Blest Pair of Sirens by Parry, that sort of piece sounds better with more singers. Some repertoire sounds better sung by one choir or the other.

 

LB: I was here when you sang a Lassus Mass a couple weeks ago. That sounds best with a small choir.

SC: I quite agree.

 

LB: Americans are fascinated with the King’s College men and boys’ choir, and how they get trained.  What do you see for their future?

SC: I used a phrase the other day. I gave a speech at a charity dinner, a fundraiser for the Friends of Cathedral Music. In fact, it wasn’t my phrase, but it was actually given to me in the briefing notes. “We are not dealing with some kind of elite group. We are dealing with ordinary children doing extraordinary things.” And it is extraordinary what they do. They are ordinary kids, and they need to play around and be children. I suppose, if anything, what I try to do is to treat them as if they are ordinary people, not as superstars or anything, because they aren’t. But at the same time, you have to manage what they do here. They wear their Eton suits and walk through the college to the chapel. Visitors are coming in here, photographing them, for example, and we have to deal with and manage the issues that arise from that.

As far as the training of them is concerned, we do our best to offer them as broad a musical spectrum as we can. So each boy plays the piano and an orchestral instrument. We teach them theory, they have aural training and sight-reading. We also have a professional vocal coach who teaches them about singing. With children, I think that’s best done on a relatively straightforward and simple level.

Here I’m slouching in this chair, but I’m basically telling them to stand up straight, get their body alignment and balance in good shape, and then thinking about breathing and the easy production of sound, not forcing, just good basic habits.

 

LB: The older boys model the sound for the younger boys?

SC: Yes, that’s a good point. There are two aspects to the training they get.  You would have seen in the chapel boys in Years 6, 7, and 8. We also have boys in Years 4 and 5 back over the river at King’s College School. They don’t sing in the public services. Some of the Year 5s do. They get one-to-one training, small group training, but they’re also singing along with the older ones. It’s a mixture of specifically targeted instruction on the one hand and modeling, or I call it osmosis, seeping down from one generation to another. One of the things you have to remind the older boys is that they are role models for the younger ones, necessarily.

 

LB: I saw one of the younger boys relying on another older boy for cues during the Evensong last Saturday, I believe.

SC: I try to place them so there is an older boy next to a younger boy through the ranks.

 

LB: Could you speak about what goes into the preparation for Christmas Eve Lessons and Carols?

SC: I remember David Willcocks being asked this question. I heard him on a radio interview when I was very young. He gave a typically clever answer that “in a sense you are preparing all the time because every day you’re trying to make the choir sing as well as possible.” I’m not somebody who believes in suddenly trying to up the ante a week before. I try to do it on the basis that it’s what we’re doing every day. That’s not to say we don’t make obviously very special effort for the big occasions. 

I personally feel that unless you’re trying to make it really good every day, you can’t suddenly click your fingers and expect singers to move into another gear for this or that occasion. Because children, especially young children, thrive on consistent expectation, they like to have the ground rules, whatever they are. It’s best to have ground rules, consistency.

Then from my point of view, the preparation is about planning the repertoire, and in a sense I am thinking about that all the time. I’m looking out for publishers catalogues. I get a lot of material sent to me (looking around the office, “a lot of this stuff has been sent to me”), and I do try my best to look properly at everything, because you just never know when a little gem will turn up. And so I have to get all of that organized and sorted out. And then toward the end of November we start in earnest preparing the actual music. We have a carol service for schools here where we air some of the repertoire. We are often asked to sing Christmas carols for a concert. This enables us to prepare gradually through the month of December.

 

LB: Is it your innovation to commission a new work each year?

SC: Yes, it is. I started that in 1983. When I first started doing it, I got some quite abusive letters from people asking what was I doing degrading this great tradition by introducing horrible, dissonant modern music. 

Now I tend to get the same reaction you are describing. People are keen to hear what it will be. I feel that’s a small achievement.

 

LB: No small achievement! I wonder how you keep the quality of men and boys from one year to the next.

SC: I remember a comment made by one of the choral scholars when he graduated some years ago, ten or twenty years ago, who said, “I really admire how you peg away every day at it.” And I think that’s what I do, I peg away at it.

 

LB: Do you see the boys every day?

SC: Almost every day.

We didn’t talk very much about the choral scholars who, of course, are an essential part of the Choir. They sometimes feel a bit neglected. We go on the concert platform, and everyone will applaud the little boys, and then the volume of the applause dies down when the men walk on.

I occasionally do it the other way around and send the men on first. It’s quite interesting to see what the audience does. It is not a question of a front row sixteen trebles with a backing group. All the men are an absolutely vital part of the whole.  

We do services with the men only once a week, and more than that in half-term. I really enjoy those occasions because it gives me a chance to work in detail, in depth, with the choral scholars in a way one actually can’t do when the children are there. They occupy a higher proportion of one’s attention, naturally.

 

LB: How many of the boys and scholars go on to study music professionally?

SC: Quite a few. It is difficult to put a percentage on it, but a significant number do. Just to mention a few of the organ scholars, there is Sir Andrew Davis in Chicago, Simon Preston, who is, sadly, no longer playing, and Thomas Trotter. That’s just three and there are a lot more.   

 

LB: Churches in the United States have increasing problems supporting church musicians. How does the Friends of Cathedral Music support church music?

 SC: Friends of Cathedral Music exists to help with funding. I think that funding is an issue for everyone. Everyone thinks the Oxbridge (Oxford and Cambridge) colleges are rich, but they aren’t infinitely rich. We have to make our case for the chapel and the choir within the college as a whole over against educational imperatives, just as you might expect.

In a cathedral, the greatest call on funds is maintenance of the fabric. You can’t have a cathedral choir if the building is falling apart.

It becomes a matter of priorities. In the big London choirs where they are paying a dozen professional singers, it becomes expensive. So there is going to be a continuing need for financial support.

We get no support from central government. The money a cathedral has comes from its endowments if it has any, its lands and assets, if it has any, together with income from visitors.

For instance at Ely, those shops along the High Street, a lot of them belong to the cathedral, and the cathedral derives a rent from them. That’s part of what enables the cathedral to keep going.

Many of them now charge, as we do. I remember in Ely fifteen to twenty years ago, when they introduced charging, there was a lot of heart-searching, shaking of heads. People said it’s awful to charge people to go into a religious building.

One of the clergymen said to me it’s not really about that. It’s a choice. We either charge or we have to close down.

Here, King’s College Chapel is a private college chapel; there is no compulsion upon us to open it to the public. We choose to do so. To make it safe for people to be in there, to heat it, that costs us money.

I don’t subscribe to the argument that it’s a bad thing to charge.

 

LB: I think you do a good job of separating the worship times and the times the visitors can view the chapel.

SC: That’s got to be done.

 

LB: In the United States, each parish has to fund its own musicians, and they don’t have land and other support. There are increasingly fewer full-time musician positions. It’s a big issue in the United States, and our system is different than yours. Do you have any comment about our situation?

SC: I don’t have a solution to the problem. I just note what I see. Sometimes I look rather enviously at the level of funding that some of the churches have in the United States. Of course there is a difference. A given parish in the United States, whatever the denomination, has its parish role. Those loyal parishoners see it as a responsibility to see that it is properly funded.

The Church of England is a very different animal, partly because of the established link with the state. I think that, personally, one of the great things about it is that it’s theoretically there for everyone, of all faiths, or no faith. You can be baptized there, married there, and you could be buried there in the parish in which you live.

But there isn’t quite the same degree of community and of financial responsibility. It’s a rather subtle difference but it does makes a difference.

So I go to some churches in the United States that are fabulously well-funded. They have offices, and the director of music has quite a large staff. 

I do understand what you describe because I read about it. If there are fewer people attending church, you have less money coming in.

It’s different here; it’s different again if you go to Scandinavia or Germany where they have had the church tax, which is gradually being abolished in some of these countries. The church had it rather easy when it had the compulsory tax.

If the church loses this revenue, they’ll have to make it the responsibility of people voluntarily to support it.

 

LB: What you are looking forward to in future projects? How do you nourish your own spiritual life? Does this daily life nourish you?

SC: Goodness . . . . Well, forthcoming events: that’s relatively easy. We have our next United States tour in the spring of 2019, a short tour. I don’t know if we’re allowed to announce yet where we are going. We’re going to Australia in the summer of 2019. We have plans for the UK and Ireland in 2018, and this December we go to Athens.

We have exciting recording plans for a Bruckner Mass, and possibly some more Rutter. And we’ve got a recording coming out of Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms.

There’s lots of that going on.  

I think as far as a personal spiritual journey is concerned, as with probably the majority of people, that barometer goes up and down.

I know that Cardinal Hume used to say at Westminster Cathedral, even someone like him, “it’s hard to believe all of this sometimes. Some days it’s harder than others.” That’s something I share with a lot of people.

As to how I perform my job here, I see it as an enabling thing. I want to enable particularly the young people in the choir to experience this wonderful music through liturgy well-conducted.  

I don’t seek to influence them in what they should believe about it. I’m simply laying before them the opportunities, and they take from them what they want. 

It’s really the same in terms of the congregation. So I’m saying, here I am. I’m trying to do this music as well as I can today, and you’re coming to our service. You’ll meet lots of different people, from the college, the university, the town, or visitors from Australia, or Papua New Guinea, and, of course, America. Some will be what one might call card-carrying Christians, some will be lapsed Christians, some will have no particular religious belief or knowledge at all. That’s what makes us very different from a community church in America as we’ve been talking about. Some people think that would devalue the experience for me. I actually think the complete opposite of that.

One of the particular problems the church has today is that it’s easily perceived as being exclusive. If you don’t fit a particular pattern . . . we don’t need to go into the question of gender and sexuality, but we know about all that.

Whereas I think, it’s a cliché, of course, that everyone should be made welcome, whatever their religious standpoint or lifestyle. So if someone comes to the service and hears “Like as the Hart” by Howells, for example, and is moved by that and spiritually nourished by that, that’s great. 

It’s not my concern whether they’re going to go to the altar and receive communion the next day or not. Those are separate issues. I’m not intending to sound detached about that, but I genuinely feel that.  

There’s another thing I believe in strongly. There’s another side of that coin. I say to the choral scholars (since it’s not necessary for the children at that stage, as they haven’t developed their views), “well look, if you don’t believe this, or don’t agree with it, you still have to behave in a professional way. There are people in the chapel every day for genuine religious reasons to say their prayers, and they don’t want to see you behaving in a way that distracts from that.”

I do insist on what I call a proper professional decorum. It’s important to me that the choir conducts itself properly.

 

LB: I think that clearly shows. Who have been your own greatest influences?

SC: I was a boy chorister at Worcester. The organist there was Douglas Guest, who’d been an organ scholar here in the late 1930s. The first experience of anything is very formative. Then Christopher Robinson came to be organist there and taught me to play the organ. Harry Bramma was there, a great teacher. Then in Cambridge there was George Guest, of course, whom I worked closely with at St. John’s. I also had good contact with David Willcocks during those years; I played for his rehearsals with the Cambridge University Musical Society. Within the field of church music I would say those are the people.

 

LB: What about your own composition?

SC: I’m not really a composer. I think I can turn in some fairly decent arrangements. I don’t see myself as a composer of original music. I have composed some pieces and people have been nice about them.

One of the privileges I had when I worked with the BBC singers as chief conductor for ten years was to do a lot of contemporary music, a lot of premières. I found it fascinating to be in close contact with composers. I could tell you a lot about composers from that angle.

One thing that is true of the best composers I’ve met is that they are absolutely consumed with a need, almost a physical need, a mental need certainly, to compose music. It’s something they absolutely have to do.

I don’t feel that kind of an urge to compose. I teach students here to do harmony and counterpoint, so I know how to put the notes on the page in order to do an arrangement. I know how not to write parallel fifths.

It’s the same with going into the musical profession. I remember Herbert Sumison at Gloucester used to advise young people, “If you are thinking about entering the music profession, is it something your innermost feelings make an imperative? If not, you’re much better going off and doing something else and keeping music for your leisure and enjoyment.”

 

LB: Thank you for your time this afternoon.

 SC: I look forward to seeing you again in the chapel.

Notes

1. Dr. Clinch presented a lecture on Howells’s piano music at the Howells Society gathering, October 28, 2017.

Larry Palmer

From the Harpsichord Editor’s mailbox

 

Four recent harpsichord scores 

Carson Cooman (born 1982) is a prolific composer who writes accessible music. He serves currently as Research Associate in Music and Composer-in-Residence at Harvard University’s Memorial Church. A surprise packet containing four elegantly printed scores by Cooman arrived in my mailbox recently. All are “for keyboard” (in the composer’s notes, appropriate instruments are listed as pipe organ, harpsichord, clavichord, lautenwerk, harmonium, reed organ, piano, or electronic keyboard). All are published by Zimbel Press (www.zimbel.com) and distributed exclusively by Subito Music Corporation (www.subitomusic.com).

All four are well-suited to the harpsichord: textures are consistently spare (ranging from two to four voices), and Cooman indicates that long-held notes should be restruck ad libitum on instruments that have a faster sound decay.

Of the four pieces my personal favorites are Three Renaissance Dances, op. 1079, and Prelude, Fughetta, and Allegro, op. 1064, both composed in 2014. The Dances—Pavane (Adagio), Tordion (Vivace), and Allemande (Andante espressivo)­—are faithful to the rhythms and chords expected in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the order of the movements guarantees both variety and interest. Comprising only five pages of music, these dances will not be boring to an audience.

Cooman’s Prelude, Fughetta, and Allegro is “loosely inspired by Johann Sebastian Bach’s Prelude, Fugue and Allegro, BWV 998—a late composition seemingly intended for harpsichord, lute, or most especially, the lautenwerk [a ‘lute harpsichord’]—apparently a personal favorite instrument of Bach,” to quote the composer’s introductory notes. Dedicated to the instrument maker Steven Sørli, these three movements in E-flat major, C minor, and E-flat major are beautifully crafted and could make an interesting pairing with Bach’s work. Use of the harpsichord’s buff stop would suggest the sound of the gut-strung “lute-harpsichord.” Cooman also mentions that “equal temperament is neither expected nor required” for this music.

The two additional scores in the packet are Ricercari, op. 1014 (2013), “inspired by the keyboard music of the early and mid-17th century.” The work consists of one page (3-voice texture) dedicated to Kimberly Marshall, two pages (2 voices) for James Woodman, and a final two pages (4 voices) for Peter Sykes.

Number four, Toccata sequenziale sopra “ut re mi fa,” op. 1063, dedicated to the New England instrument maker Allan Winkler, is a contemporary work inspired by the early Italian keyboard toccatas of Frescobaldi and his followers. In the style of the 17th century, this six-page piece is meant to be played freely, and it comprises both the longest and most harmonically adventurous of these Cooman compositions.

 

A musicological detective story

Knowing my deep appreciation for well-plotted mystery stories, dear colleague and longtime friend harpsichordist Jane Clark sent me the journal of The British Music Society (aptly named British Music, Volume 38, 2016, #2) in which John Turner’s article “Thank you, Norman Dello Joio! A Voyage of Discovery” appeared in print (pages 24–32). Turner traces the twists and turns that led to his finding of a major musical score by Alan Rawsthorne (1905–1971). The composer’s manuscript was destroyed together with many other pieces and musical instruments during the November 1940 Luftwaffe bombing of his lodgings in Bristol. Unexpectedly, a copy of Rawsthorne’s Chamber Cantata for Voice, Strings, and Harpsichord (1937) was found among the papers of Southern California composer Halsey Stevens (1908–1989), whose legacy is now archived at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.

The link between the UK and the United States must have been the harpsichordist Alice Ehlers (1887–1981) who played the keyboard part at the premiere of the Chamber Cantata in 1937. Ehlers, an early student of Wanda Landowska, immigrated to the United States in 1938, where she was, for many years, a fellow faculty member together with Stevens at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles. Turner surmises that it must have been she who brought her copy of the cantata score to the United States, where, somehow, it became part of the Stevens Collection. (My quick look at Frances Bedford’s Harpsichord and Clavichord Music of the 20th Century provided the information that Stevens composed a two-minute solo harpsichord work for Ehlers—La quarte-vingtaine—in 1967, the year of her 80th birthday!)

There is much more concerning this exciting rediscovery of a “lost” Raws-thorne composition as well as a reference to Walter Leigh’s delightful Concertino for Harpsichord and Strings, which Turner posits may well have been familiar to the cantata’s composer. The connection to American composer Norman Dello Joio is also explained in his article, together with a reference to this American composer’s 1980 solo harpsichord work Salute to Scarlatti and the welcome news that “the first modern performance of the rediscovered Rawsthorne work took place on October 29, 2016, at the Royal Northern College of Music, with Harvey Davis at the harpsichord.”

 

Mark Schweizer’s 14th
liturgical mystery

It was The Diapason’s editor Jerome Butera who sent me a review copy of Mark Schweizer’s first liturgical mystery, The Alto Wore Tweed. It was, I suppose, not surprising since I had written several columns concerning “Murder at the Harpsichord” (citing mystery novels with a harpsichord connection, not referring to recitals by students or colleagues). My Schweizer review was published in the July 2003 issue of our favorite magazine (on pages 8 and 10), from which I quote:

 

Here is the answer to all your gift needs: buy a copy of this slim paperback for every person on your Christmas list. Any 144-page book that manages to include references to Charles Wood, Charpentier, Mendelssohn, Hugo Distler, bagpipes, an anthem text in which “Holy Jesus” rhymes with “moldy Cheeses” and “Martin Luther’s Diet of Wurms (the only Diet of Wurms with the International Congress of Church Musicians Seal of Approval)” gets my vote for book of the year.

 

Well, here we are, 14 years later, at liturgical mystery number 14, and I have read every one of the intervening volumes, each of which has produced a similar (or greater) sense of euphoria, merriment, and admiration for the author’s continued droll sense of humor, ability to create madcap plots, and sheer ability both to instruct and to entertain.

The newest, The Lyric Wore Lycra, which clocks in at 192 pages (like most of us, it has added a little extra heft around its middle), still maintains the Raymond Chandler sub-story set in distinctive typewriter script, is still replete with welcome musical references, and still displays the author’s ability to poke gentle barbs at liturgical matters, the current ones involving Fat Tuesday and Lent, all side by side with several dead bodies and, thus, enough crimes to be solved by sleuth Hayden Konig, police chief of St. Germaine, North Carolina, and part-time organist-choirmaster of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in that small village.

And yes, it is gift-worthy in the extreme, available directly from St. James Music Press (www.sjmpbooks.com). (Request an autographed copy if you wish.) My package of two copies arrived within three days, so the book accompanied me to Santa Fe, where I shared news of its July publication with my hosts, also devoted Schweizer fans. They rushed away from our dinner table to place their order immediately, and they, too, had their books in hand, ready to be read while on their vacation.

Frank Rippl

Chicago? Again? A third OHS national convention in the Windy City? What else was there to see and hear in the way of the pipe organ? There was a great deal—and splendidly presented with grace, good humor, brilliant scholarship, and midwestern charm. Chicago has world-class museums, architecture, shopping, dining, magnificent Lake Michigan—and stunning churches and pipe organs!

 

Sunday, July 8

Jonathan Ryan played the opening recital at St. Chrysostom’s Episcopal Church on Chicago’s North Side, on the fine 2m Fisk Op. 123 (2005) that stands on the floor in the rear nave’s left corner. Things got off to a lively start with Dupré’s transcription of Bach’s Sinfonia from Cantata 29. This robust Fisk has strong, dark, full-bodied reeds; clean, striking mixtures; singing flutes and strings, warm foundations, and a powerful fortissimo. Ryan’s playing had great drive; he saved the mighty reed sounds for a dramatic conclusion. In Sweelinck’s Balletto del Granduca, I liked hearing the full-bodied Trompette, flutes accompanying a Cornet and a jolly Zimbelstern, and a nice organo pleno to close. Fine playing.

Francis Jackson’s Prelude on East Acklam featured some very British sounds: celestes accompanied the 8′ Octave in the tenor register; I believe we heard the 4′ Open Flute. The organ more than held its own in the hymn “For the fruit of all creation.” How I love hearing OHS hymn singing! I was seated next to Stephen Schnurr and Dennis Northway, leaders of the convention. Their faces expressed great pleasure. That first hymn is always a wonderful affirmation for convention committee members—a moment of satisfaction after years of hard work. I was happy for them, and all who made this moment possible. This was indeed “the fruit of their creation.”

In György Ligeti’s (1923–2006) Étude coulée 1969 a busy, repetitive pattern of phenomenally fast notes in the flutes flew out over sustained pedal notes, then suddenly ended, flitting off to the upper reaches. A few chuckles were heard. 

Herbert Howells’ Rhapsody in C-sharp Minor, op. 17, no. 3, started big and then presented typical Howellsian dynamic and tonal variations. I liked the Hautbois 8′ as a chorus reed. The Great Prestant 16′ in the tenor range was grand. Ryan had a very fine sense of this piece’s architecture.

In No. 4 in A-Flat Major from Robert Schumann’s Six Canonic Etudes, op. 56, Ryan showed the rich foundations, ending with Viole de gambe 8′; No. 5 in B Minor offered pluck and life. George Baker’s Berceuse Paraphrase (1992) was a lovely combination of Vierne’s Berceuse with Away in a Manger—easy on the ear with celestes, solo flute, and soft pedal.

Jonathan Ryan closed with Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in B Major, op. 7, no. 1—its lively toccata and angular fugue formed a test for hands and feet that he passed well! This excellent recital was a great start to our convention.

Buses took us downtown, where we had our choice of restaurants, then walked to Holy Name Cathedral for a recital by Wolfgang Rübsam on the 1989 4m, 117-rank Flentrop. With mechanical stop action and very deep mechanical key action, it is not for the faint of heart. Following a recent fire, the cathedral was closed for a time. The organ suffered only minor damage, to the Positief; building repairs, with a new terrazzo floor, improved the acoustics. The organ stands proudly in the rear gallery: its elaborate casework, in light-colored French quarter-sawn oak, starkly contrasts with the dramatic dark wooden ceiling. Herr Rübsam’s all-German program began with Bach’s partita Sei gegrüßet, Jesu gütig. Registrations were perfectly proportioned: cornets sang with grace and conviction, beautifully supported by foundations; the full plenum was rich and clear. Elegant playing throughout.

Chorale preludes followed: Helmut Walcha’s Jesu, deine Passion (canon at the sixth) in trio texture; Rübsam’s own Wie soll ich dich empfangen used an 8′ Principal with tremolo, a lovely pastel; Walcha’s Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott offered wonderful counterpoint against a sturdy pedal cantus firmus. Walcha (1907–91) was Rübsam’s teacher; Rübsam is recording Walcha’s complete organ works on the Naxos label. We then sang the hymn “A mighty fortress is our God.” Our singing that night was some of the week’s best!

Walcha’s Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ presented effective combinations of 8′ and 4′ flutes, Cornet with tremolo, and a pedal-reed cantus firmus. Rübsam’s own O Heiland, reiß die Himmel auf: Entrée opened with a grand ff; Communio was a continually moving trio followed by a lush passage on strings and flutes; a lively Toccata followed, including the pedal 32′ Bombarde. This thrilling and joyful piece is a first-rate addition to the repertoire. 

More Walcha followed: an introspective Der Tag ist hin, mein Jesu, bei mir bleibe. Usually I’m pretty good at identifying registrations, but not with this organ and organist. Rübsam drew forth a fantastic variety of color—the Dutch reeds were so subtle.

Rübsam closed this perfect recital with Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor. Dynamics began softly but built quickly; tempo was langsam at first, but built momentum and energy. The fugue’s familiar melodies were given their due in perfect balance. I’ve never heard it played better. Rübsam’s wife, Jan, told me that he had had rotator cuff surgery on his shoulder in April. Only three weeks prior to the convention did he know he could play for us! The audience’s roar called him back to the balcony railing countless times. This was a memorable OHS evening.

 

Monday, July 9

Monday dawned bright and sunny. Cooler temperatures followed weeks of horrendous heat. With perfect weather, we were eager to get started. 

We divided into two groups. Mine went to St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Valparaiso, Indiana to hear James Russell Brown play the 2m Hook & Hastings Op. 1417 (1889). The Atlas contains Stephen Schnurr’s two-page essay about this organ and Scot Huntington’s 16-page description of his firm’s work restoring the instrument. It stands at the back of the church resplendent in a beautiful oak case and painted façade; the 16′ Bourdon pipes form the sides of the case. One of our Biggs Fellows hand-pumped the organ for the recital. Brown began with Handel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba (from Solomon). The organ’s sound was clear and warm. In Bach’s Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr, BWV 662, the Melodia accompanied the (partially new) 16′ Contra Fagotto played one octave lower, along with (I think) the 4′ Violina, a lovely sound. Brown played with great sensitivity and sweetness. Sur “La, mi, re,” by an anonymous 16th-century English composer, was played on an 8′ flute. 

Chorale Variations on St. Elizabeth (Crusader’s Hymn), from Frank Ferko’s (b. 1950) Music for Elizabeth Chapel (2001), is charming and would please your congregation. I was eager to see how Brown would bring off the late-romantic Elgar Nimrod from “Enigma” Variations (op. 36), arranged by William H. Harris, on a small tracker organ without stop pullers. He did reasonably well, using the piano and forte ventil-like toe studs, but it was ultimately awkward. Parry’s hymn “O praise ye the Lord!” (Laudate Dominum) was a good follow-up, in a fine demonstration of a very beautiful 19th-century organ.

A pleasant walk through a park-like setting complete with pond and fountain took us to First Presbyterian Church for our choice of lectures, one on the restoration of a 1926 Casavant that will be moved to Chicago’s St. John Cantius Church, about which we had received a DVD. I attended the other, “Issues in Restoration,” by Keith Williams of Buzard Pipe Organ Builders, a fascinating consideration of “Why do we do what we do the way we do it,” that also explored the words “conservation” and “restoration”—entertaining and enlightening, with plenty of photos. 

We then drove to Gary, Indiana, once home to U.S. Steel. It has stunning views of Lake Michigan, and an attractive English Gothic-style Catholic cathedral, built and dedicated in 1950 to the Holy Angels. The 2m, 33-rank Phelps Casavant, Op. 2769, installed in 1963, stands in the rear gallery on either side of a large window, and speaks clearly down the nave in a grand acoustic. This was a much-anticipated recital—word was out that this organ was exceptional (it was), and we all love Derek Nickels’ playing (he did not disappoint!). Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 549, sounded clean and polished. The fugue began on the 8′ Krummhorn—an unexpected surprise—and built to a blazing full-organ finale. We were all smitten with this instrument; music by Ernst Pepping perfectly suited it: Wie soll ich dich empfangen (Grosses Orgelbuch, 1941), Vorspiel I, Andante cantabile showed the beautiful 8′ and 4′. Vorspiel II, Allegro Scherzando leapt about; a fine reed carried the tune. William Albright’s ever-charming Sweet Sixteenths—A Concert Rag for Organ (1975) was very well played with loads of wit. As it was about 90 degrees outside, and we were packed in the church without A/C, who knows how warm the church was, nor how warm Derek was up in the loft, but it never showed in his playing!

After “Father, we praise thee” (Christe Sanctorum)—brilliantly played and vigorously sung—Nickels closed with Dupré’s Variations sur un Noël, op. 20 (1922), a dazzling performance that lifted us out of the pews roaring our approval for this superb recital. (Derek was also in charge of the buses, and did his work very well, indeed!)

Next was Christ Temple Cathedral—Church of Christ (Holiness) U.S.A. in the Roseland neighborhood. The present building was dedicated in 1926. Originally a Dutch Reformed church, in the 1960s and ’70s it and the neighborhood became largely African-American. The church is a well-maintained part of the community. Its 3m, 39-stop electro-pneumatic 1926 Hinners—the largest surviving Hinners in the Chicago area—stands in the front of the church in chambers on either side of the seated choir. Chicago organist and composer Clarence Eddy played the dedication recital. In 1954 Austin replaced the console. The organ fell silent in recent years, but was brought back to life by the Chicago-Midwest OHS chapter especially for our convention. Recitalist Mark Sudeith began with Wilhelm Middelschulte’s (1863–1943) Canon in F Major, dedicated to Clarence Eddy—cheery music using the foundation stops. Schubert’s Am Meer, arranged by Eddy, showed the beautiful soft strings and Vox Humana; the tone is warm and luxurious. Sudeith then played (from the original manuscript) Variations on a Folksong, “Peter, Go Ring Dem Bells,” by Florence B. Price (1887–1953), which displayed the solo reeds and ended with a lively toccata. The hymn “I’m happy with Jesus alone,” by Charles P. Jones Sr. (1865–1949), founder of the Church of Christ (Holiness) U.S.A., was a rouser in the best sense—we loved it. The playing was first rate, and our voices filled the 1,150-seat church with joy.

Our buses took us to Rockefeller Memorial Chapel, on the University of Chicago campus, to hear the massive 72-bell carillon, the world’s second largest (the largest, also a gift of the Rockefeller family, is at New York City’s Riverside Church, with 74 bells). John Gouwens played a stunning program as we sat in the grass beneath the chapel’s soaring tower: Dave Grusin’s On Golden Pond (1981); John Courter’s Suite No. 4 (2009); an improvisation on a submitted hymn tune; and Roy Hamlin Johnson’s Victimae Paschali Laudes (1986).

My group had dinner at Augustana Lutheran Church; organist Daniel Schwandt allowed us access to the church’s new handsome 2m tracker built by Wahl Organbuilders of Appleton, Wisconsin. We took quite a shine to its clear voicing. Wahl reused pipework from an old Lyon & Healy organ as well as newly made pipes—a very successful blend. 

On to the First Unitarian Church, completed in 1931 in the English Perpendicular Gothic style, to hear three historic organs from Stephen Schnurr’s collection. There was also a Hammond player organ performing: another treat! Who knew there was such a thing? Gregory Crowell, making his ninth appearance at an OHS convention, began on a Henry Willis “Scudamore” organ (ca. 1857–1860) with Gottlieb Muffat’s Overture, Suite 1 in C Major. The one-manual, 54-note organ had two ranks: Open Diapason 8′ and Principal 4′, with a permanently coupled 25-note pedal. The pleasing sounds graced the early evening. Crowell then moved to a sweet-toned little George Jardine & Sons (ca. 1850s) (“the oldest American-built pipe organ in the Chicago metropolitan area,” according to the Atlas). He gracefully played Handel’s Voluntary in C Major, movements III and VI from Ernest Chausson’s Vêpres des Vierges, op. 31 (I enjoyed the flute in movement VI), and his own transcription of Mendelssohn’s Lieder ohne Wörte, op. 67, V. Moderato. 

A two-rank (no pedal) Hilborne L. Roosevelt, Op. 297 (1885) looked like an upright piano, having a reed organ’s foot-pumping pedals. It was meant to be portable. We heard Voluntary by Samuel Jackson (1818–1885), then some elegant Elgar: Vesper Voluntaries, op. 14, I. Andante and IV. Allegretto piacevole, with an effective Stopped Diapason. Praeludium in F-sharp Minor by Ernst Friedrich Richter (1808–1879) was interesting and well suited to the Roosevelt. Crowell concluded on the Willis, with Eric Thiman’s Postlude on “Nun danket alle Gott” and I. Allegro from Sonatine for Organ by Eberhart Egermann (b. 1933), good demonstration pieces, well played. We were grateful to Stephen Schnurr for making these instruments available (and to those who helped transport them!).

We returned to Rockefeller Memorial Chapel to hear Nathan Laube; the performance was broadcast over the Internet (available at: http://news.uchicago.edu/webcast/nathan-laube-live-2012-ohs-chicago-con…), an OHS first. The chapel is vast: long, wide, and high, with the main organ in front and a substantial gallery organ in the rear. The front 4m console plays both organs; a 2m gallery console controls just that organ. The room’s windows were never properly finished, so it lacks color, but is still quite impressive. The 132-rank Skinner Organ Company Op. 634 was built in 1928—a period in which Ernest Skinner built his magnum opus at Yale University’s Woolsey Hall, and huge organs at the University of Michigan and Princeton. This organ suffered some rebuilding efforts in the 1970s and later; several ranks were dispersed. In 2005 the Schantz Organ Company returned old ranks, replicated others, and replaced some with vintage Skinner pipework. Rededicated on June 7, 2008, the organ, while not exactly as Skinner left it, is once again a major part of the Chicago organ scene. 

OHS executive director Jim Weaver welcomed the audience, including those on the World Wide Web, then Nathan Laube opened with Allegro vivace from Widor’s Symphonie, op. 42, no. 5 (1878). This familiar music moved over us gently at first, followed by a good deal of aggression. Laube kept things in proportion, giving each melodic line its due, ending on full organ with those fabulous reeds. Laube spoke about growing up in Chicago; as a young boy he was taken to hear the E. M. Skinner organ at St. Luke’s, Evanston, and to Rockefeller Chapel, where he heard Wolfgang Rübsam play. He fell in love with these instruments and knew that playing the organ would be his career.

Mendelssohn’s Sonata in A, op. 65, no. 3 (1845), first movement ended in a blaze of glory, followed by the lovely Andante tranquillo. Laube’s transcription of Mendelssohn’s Variations serieuses, op. 54 (1841), with passages of great wit and virtuosity, wonderfully displayed this huge organ’s colors. Though young (he turned 25 the day before this recital), Laube is a master of the art of transcription. He reached deeply into the vast Skinner tonal palette, and brought us to places we might not have gone before—a brilliant performance. 

After intermission, he played Saint-Saëns’ Fantaisie in D-flat, op. 101 (1895). Its quiet opening showed beautiful strings and a solo flute that was to die for. A gentle reed chorus punctuated the flutes and strings, then stronger reeds were in dialogue with the foundations. A swelling crescendo then arose. Laube played it beautifully, announcing the ff section on a powerful reed, then slowly drifted back to quiet strings. 

In Funérailles (d’après Lamartine) from Laube’s transcription of Liszt’s Harmonies poétiques et religieuses, S. 173, no. 7 (1849), thunder-like pedal rumbles gave an ominous start, followed by a smashing fanfare played on the gallery organ’s horizontal trumpet. This piece is full of foreboding darkness, and Laube summoned forth remarkable color. A riotous pedal solo accompanied the active manual work, which featured a few blasts from a strong reed, and then gave way to a single flute. In two Brahms settings of O Welt, ich muß dich lassen, no. 3 employed a quiet 8′ Diapason on the choir, and no. 11 drew especially gorgeous foundations. Laube’s tempo was a bit restless, as though the soul longed to leave the body and journey heavenward. 

The world premiere of Laube’s transcription of Brahms’s Academic Festival Overture, op. 80 (1880), featured melodic lines and rhythmic passages carefully delineated, and blended into a musically rich and full whole. The concert concluded with Gaudeamus Igitur, so fun to sing in this full chapel, ending a wonderful day. 

 

Tuesday, July 10

In the suburb of Downers Grove we visited the charming Tivoli Theatre, where house organist David Rhodes played its 3m, 10-rank Wurlitzer, Op. 942. The third organ to grace this theatre (it was preceded by a Barton and a Wurlitzer), this instrument is owned and maintained by Chicago Area Theatre Organ Enthusiasts (CATOE). We munched on popcorn as Rhodes entertained us with Richard A. Whiting’s Hooray for Hollywood (1937), and Charles Chaplin’s Smile, then accompanied a hilarious 1915 Chaplin short film, In the Park (possibly filmed in the Chicago area). Rhodes seemingly caught every nuance. In a hot dog-eating scene, he slipped in the “Oscar Mayer Wiener Song”—very clever playing and a fun start to the day.

Our next stop was very sentimental for me: the beautiful Noack organ, Op. 44 (1969) at the Convent of the Sisters of St. Joseph in La Grange Park. Installed the summer I graduated from college, this organ became a place of pilgrimage for us “Tracker Backers” on our visits to Chicago. It stands in a balcony in the rear of the nave of this handsome modern chapel. Originally the room had all hard surfaces, but now carpet covers the concrete floor, and padded chairs have replaced wooden seats. Though the acoustic is not as beautiful as it once was, the organ still sounds great. 

Thomas Wikman began with Buxtehude’s Partita on “Vater unser im Himmelreich”; I especially enjoyed the 4′ flutes with tremolo. In Antonio Cabezón’s Tiento del quinto tono, Wikman’s well-chosen registration—reeds and Sesquialtera II—led the way. This organ’s Italian accent spoke in Girolamo Cavazzoni’s Canzona sopra ‘Il e bel e bon’, played with good style. The sounds were as beautiful as I remembered. The music was cleanly and sensitively played. 

After the hymn “Alleluia! Sing to Jesus” (Hyfrydol), Wikman gave us a sweet performance of Robert Lind’s Prelude on ‘Love Unknown’, then Bach’s Pièce d’Orgue, BWV 572, which worked quite well. The brilliant closing section brought this outstanding concert to a fine conclusion.

Emmanuel Episcopal Church in La Grange is the city’s oldest congregation, founded in 1874. The present French Gothic-style church was built in 1926. (Our Atlas noted that it was featured in the 1995 film While You Were Sleeping.) The 1970 electro-pneumatic Phelps Casavant, Op. 3062, 3m, 46 stops, 63 ranks, stands in a chamber to the right of the chancel. Stephen Schnurr, author of the OHS Organ Atlas 2012, began with the hymn “Lo, he comes with clouds descending” (Helmsley),  followed by Buxtehude’s Praeludium in A Minor, BuxWV 153. Schnurr used the Krummhorn to good effect. Flutes led to the final fugue and a fantasia presenting the full plenum and pedal reeds—a wonderful sound, in a fine performance. 

Next came the premiere of Variations on Hyfrydol, written by convention chair Dennis Northway. At one point the tune appeared in the tenor with imaginatively placed fast notes up top. Another movement used a canon between a trumpet and pedal foundations. After a beautiful movement with sweet strings and soft foundations, a fugue brought this very good new piece to a close. Well done!

A hallmark of Stephen Schnurr’s OHS recitals is the showcasing of young musicians and friends. This recital featured a mother and her children. Tenor Willson Oppedahl, a junior at Lawrence University Conservatory of Music in Appleton, Wisconsin, movingly performed Thomas Matthews’ (1915–99) The Lord Is My Shepherd, beautifully sung with sincere conviction. Elegy for violin, harp, and organ, by Harold Friedell (1908–58), featured violinist Allison Alcorn, Willson’s mother; her daughter Kiersten Oppedahl played harp. This enchanting piece, very well presented, cast a spell over all of us. 

Horatio Parker’s Allegretto, from Sonata in E-flat, op. 65, was a good contrast. The Phelps Krummhorn was playful, especially in the lower register, while flutes 8′ and 4′ scampered above. Stephen closed with the Allegro from Widor’s Symphonie VI, op. 42, a fine choice for this outstanding exemplar of the Organ Reform Movement. This organ has a lot of oomph, and Dr. Schnurr used it to good effect, playing with marvelous style and color. 

La Grange’s First Presbyterian Church was organized in 1890. The present church was built in 1962. Its 1962 3m, 46-rank Aeolian-Skinner stands in a gallery at the rear of the long, narrow nave. David Jonies and Jay Peterson shared the concert. Peterson opened with Rheinberger’s Sonata No. 8 in E Minor, op. 132, Introduction and Passacaglia, which sounded very good, with clear sounds in every dynamic range. They then joined forces for Handel’s Organ Concerto in F Major, op. 4, no. 4. Jay Peterson played the four-stop 1981 Brunzema Op. 3 portative organ from the front, while David Jonies played the orchestra bits on the main organ in the gallery. The organs were well matched, and the performance spirited. 

Jonies then played Andantino from Vierne’s Pièces de fantaisie, op. 51, no. 2, showing the beautiful strings, and Naïades, op. 55, no. 4. Next, both played the Skinner: John Rutter’s Variations on an Easter Theme (O sons and daughters), featuring a fine solo on the Oboe. The hymn was: “O sons and daughters let us sing!” (O filii et filiae).

On to Oak Park, to the beautiful St. Catherine of Siena–St. Lucy Catholic Church, a Tudor Gothic-style building dedicated in 1934. Casavant Op. 1467, built in 1932, stands in the rear gallery in two chambers that frame a large Tudor-style window. A modest 3m instrument, it has everything you’d need to be its happy player. The lucky person playing for us was Rhonda Sider Edgington, who opened with Percy Whitlock. In Pastorale, Psalm 23:1 from Seven Sketches on Verses from the Psalms, a solo on the Clarinet was accompanied by flutes, a great choice that slowly revealed the organ’s beauty. Folk Tune, from Five Short Pieces, used what I believe was the Cornopean in the tenor range. The beautiful strings crept in—still fresh after 80 years.

The hymn Picardy (“Let all mortal flesh keep silent”) was a joy to sing in this resonant room. We then heard our first music by Chicago composer Leo Sowerby: Picardy from Meditations on Communion Hymns. Edgington knew just how to express Sowerby’s marvelous harmonic sense. Her closing selection displayed this organ’s strong foundation tone: August Gottfried Ritter’s (1811–85) Sonate Nr. 2 in E Minor, op. 19.

We went to Oak Park’s Grace Episcopal Church for our Annual Meeting, followed by dinner; some explored the neighborhood, with its historic and architectural sites. 

At nearby First United Methodist Church, Ken Cowan played the splendid 4m 1926 Skinner. The console stands in a front balcony behind and above the altar, with pipes in chambers on either side of the chancel; a two-rank Echo division is in the ceiling above the rear gallery. A division of select stops from the main organ speaks into the chapel, where the division has its own 2m console. 

Cowan began with Liszt’s arrangement of Otto Nicolai’s Festival Overture on the chorale “Ein feste Burg is unser Gott,” op. 31. This organ was completely restored without alteration in 2005–6 by the Spencer Organ Company of Massachusetts and Jeff Weiler & Associates; except for an added stop in 1937, it is as it was when Skinner delivered it, producing powerful foundation tone and floor-shaking pedal notes. Cowan’s arrangement of Liszt’s Consolation No. 3 in D-flat featured lush strings and flutes, and a Skinner French Horn, played with his usual sensitivity.

The hymn was “When the morning stars together” (Weisse Flaggen). Ken Cowan’s hymn playing, like everything else, is done with great art and grace.

John Ireland’s beautiful Elegiac Romance began with a sweet Oboe solo followed by a wonderful section with celestes—perfect for a summer evening. It included the French Horn, and then built to a mighty roar; the plaintive Oboe returned, and it ended with quiet strings. Cowan closed the first half with a blazing performance of Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3. I liked the Clarinet’s clear, round sound. The playing was precise and yet supple, with the musical line clearly shaped. That fantastic fugue really galloped along.

This organ had been restored but not modernized: it lacks levels of memory. So, as in the good old days, Cowan had to come out during intermission and reset his pistons. He chuckled about it, but went about his work good-naturedly. 

Cowan then returned to his perch high above us to perform Rachel Laurin’s Étude Héroïque, demonstrating the assertive Gamba Celestes on the Solo division, and a sweet 2′ in a French Tambourin section of this piece. He closed with Guilmant’s Sonata No. 1 in D Minor, op. 42, giving this well-known work a new sheen through his musical creativity. The Pastorale showed the Clarinet again, the beautiful Vox Humana, and the Chimes. The Finale swept us along for a gleeful ride, with our pilot Ken Cowan giving the OHS another brilliant and memorable concert! We returned to our hotel fired up for the instrument we love, having just heard one its finest champions.

 

Wednesday, July 11

We began at Chicago’s Carl Schurz High School. The 1910 building is a masterpiece, incorporating elements of both Chicago and Prairie School styles. The 1925 Waveland Avenue wing included an auditorium seating nearly 1,800 and boasting three seconds of reverberation. The 4m Richard O. Whitelegg Möller proved to be one of the favorite instruments heard at this convention. The console abuts the front-left of the stage on the auditorium floor; pipes stand on a wide shelf at the back of the stage. We were told that this organ was delivered seven weeks after the contract was signed; the high quality of the work tells a great deal about Möller’s vast resources. (See Dennis Northway, “A new four-manual pipe organ in seven weeks: Möller Opus 6373 at Chicago’s Carl Schurz High School,” The Diapason, May 2012, pp. 26–29; audio file available at www.thediapason.com.) 

John Sherer, organist at Chicago’s Fourth Presbyterian Church, presented a “Concert to Commemorate the 100th Anniversary of the Sinking of the Titanic.” “Music of 1912” began with Elgar’s Imperial March, brilliantly played. The instrument has an English town hall organ’s power and grandeur. In Edward Bairstow’s Elegy, gorgeous strings and flutes were played with just enough rubato. The pedal part rumbled quietly as though it were a creature of the deep ocean. 

In “Music Heard Aboard the Titanic,” John Philip Sousa’s rousing and entertaining El Capitan was followed by Edwin H. Lemare’s transcription of Barcarolle, from Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann, said to have been played one hour before the ship sank. Next came Irving Berlin’s Alexander’s Ragtime Band, which was played as the ship sank. Sherer played it very well. 

“Music to Honor the Titanic Victims” began with Joseph Bonnet’s touching In Memoriam. The organ gave us deeply moving sounds of sadness, grief, and horror, and images of the deep, cold ocean. The piece ended with a quiet farewell to the victims of this tragedy.

This beautiful organ is in need and most worthy of a complete restoration, but was made to sound quite fine this day. Sherer closed with The Navy Hymn, “Eternal Father strong to save.” Here the too-brisk, march-like tempo seemed to not match the words. An over-busy accompaniment threw us off the pulse, and twice Sherer modulated up. The rest of the concert, however, was lovely and inspiring. 

We then went to Glencoe and the beautiful North Shore Congregation Israel. It was a thrill to enter this holy space, designed by architect Minoru Yamasaki (who designed the Oberlin Conservatory of Music). A peaceful study in white overlooking Lake Michigan, the sanctuary is shaped like praying hands. Narrow windows start just above the floor and rise to form ceiling arches, allowing light to fill the space. The 3m, 46-rank electro-pneumatic Casavant, Op. 2768 (probably the largest untouched early Phelps Casavant in the Chicago area), perches on a free-standing rear balcony.

The recitalist was H. Ricardo Ramirez, director of music/organist at Chicago’s Holy Name Cathedral. Jehan Alain’s Les Fêtes de l’Année Israelite, AWV 85, in the style of Hebrew chant and song, began quietly on the Krummhorn and gradually grew to a Trumpet fanfare. This very approachable music was so appropriate to the space, with clear and refined sounds. We sang the hymn “God of might” (Adeer Hu) in both Hebrew and English. In Bach’s Trio Sonata in G Major, BWV 530, the third movement showed the organ’s Sesquialtera. Ramirez closed with Duruflé’s Suite, op. 5. The Fagott 16′ played one octave lower was a very fine sound. The Toccata was thrillingly played.

In the leafy suburb of Winnetka, we visited Winnetka Congregational Church and its landmark 3m Martin Pasi tracker, Op. 18 (2008). Established in 1869, the church’s present building, Colonial with Art Deco and Egyptian touches in its lovely white interior, was built in 1936. The ornate North German-style case in front commands the eye with the Great in the middle, the Swell above the Great, and the Positiv cantilevered in front of the Great with the keydesk below, similar to John Brombaugh’s Op. 33 organ at Lawrence University in Appleton. The Pedal is in towers at the sides of the case; the 32′ Subbass is in the old chambers above and to the sides of the altar, where the previous Austin once stood. 

Nicholas Bideler, a doctoral candidate at the University of Kansas, began with Bruhns’s Praeludium in G Major, which sounded wonderful on this organ. Bideler’s playing had clear direction and he used the organ’s many colors very well. Next was Bach’s Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654. One tremulant affects the entire organ, and it was fine, although it did create a bit of a stir on that low pedal E-flat that starts the piece. I think Bideler used the Vox Humana with a 4′ flute as the solo line. His performance was imbued with the inner joy expressed in the chorale. 

In Karg-Elert’s Trois Impressions, Op. 72—I. Harmonies du soir, Bideler showed this versatile organ’s romantic voice. I enjoyed the Krummhorn and strings. “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind” (Repton) was followed by Impromptu from Vierne’s 24 Pièces de fantaisie, 3^ème Suite, which worked quite well. Bideler closed with Duruflé’s Prélude, adagio et choral varié sur le theme di Veni Creator, Op. 4—III Choral varié. The triumphant ending was riveting. 

Grace Presbyterian Church in Winnetka had been First Church of Christ, Scientist, built in 1938—a white Colonial-style church, whose pewter and crystal lighting fixtures were imported from Czechoslovakia prior to World War II. The church was sold to Grace Presbyterian Church in 2012. The 1938 tonally and mechanically unaltered 2m W. W. Kimball Co. organ, Op. 7238, stands at the front. Both Swell and Great are enclosed in separate chambers. The first recital was given by William H. Barnes, of Evanston, on August 21, 1938. Our recitalist, Elizabeth Naegele, who, among other things, has the distinction of being Nathan Laube’s first organ teacher, opened with Lefébure-Wély’s Sortie in B-flat Major—jolly music, played with great spirit and flourish. In a salute to this building’s long history as a Christian Science Church, the hymn was Mary Baker Eddy’s 1896 “Saw ye my Saviour?” (Laundon). We sang it well, and she played it with great sensitivity to the text, using the organ’s colors nicely. 

Naegele then played five of the “versets” from Léon Boëllmann’s Heures mystiques, ending with Entrée III. I particularly liked the Oboe. Sonata II—III Seraphic Chant by Lily Wadhams Moline (1862–1966) was lovely music, beautifully played. Naegele ended this fine and well-chosen program with Let Us Break Bread Together from Communion Hymns for Organ, Vol. I, in a quite inventive setting by Edwin T. Childs (b. 1945). 

Our next visit, to Techny’s Chapel of the Holy Spirit, Society of the Divine Word, was highly anticipated as we had seen stunning photos of its interior. A huge complex, its property adjoins St. Joseph’s Technical School, whence the “Techny” nickname originates. The large Romanesque chapel, adorned with beautiful carvings, statues, chandeliers, and sconces (forged in the Techny shops), opened in 1923. The second-story gallery runs the entire perimeter of the chapel, and our musicians took full advantage of it. Acoustics were generous and rich. The 4m Wiener organ, some of whose ranks are reused from other instruments, stands in the rear gallery in an attractive case. Its condition is not great, but it was shown to its best advantage. 

We heard The Madrigal Choir of Grace Episcopal Church, Oak Park, led by Dennis Northway, along with young organists Madeleine Woodworth and Charlie Carpenter. Now in its twelfth year, the choir, made up of mostly high school students, is dedicated to singing music of the Renaissance. Mr. Carpenter began, playing Vierne’s Carillon sur la sonnerie du carillon de la chapelle du Château de Longpont (Aisne) from 24 Pièces en style libre, op. 31, no. 21, with skill and aplomb. 

The choir sang Kyrie Eleison from William Byrd’s Mass for four voices very well, in proper Anglican style. They surprised us by singing not from the rear gallery where the organ was, but from the perimeter gallery above the high altar. After Madeleine Woodworth played Divertissement from Vierne’s 24 Pièces en style libre, with plenty of drive from this powerful organ, the choir offered Blessed Are the Pure in Heart by Eric DeLamarter (1880–1953), a beautiful setting sung and conducted with great sensitivity. Woodworth led the hymn, Leo Sowerby’s “Come risen Lord, and deign to be our guest” (Rosedale). The choir moved to different places along that perimeter gallery each time they sang, slowly making their way to the organ loft—a magical effect. Northway led these well-trained students beautifully in Peter Lutkin’s The Lord Bless You and Keep You. 

A new setting of Ave Verum Corpus was by a familiar figure: 20 year-old Adam Gruber, an alumnus of this choir and organ student of Dennis Northway, who has played for us many times and is now a student at Oberlin. The piece was well constructed and showed that Gruber has a future in the art of composition. Charlie Carpenter, a current Northway student, played the Widor Toccata. Great job, Charlie! Kudos to Dennis Northway for giving these young people a chance to perform at the convention!

Buses then took us to Evanston, for dinner at the North Shore Hotel downtown, and then the treat of several neighborhood open consoles. Some of the young, fast-moving types, led by Nathan Laube, made it down to St. Luke’s Church and its magnificent E.M. Skinner. It was a grand, fun, free time. 

The day concluded at the Music Institute of Chicago. This building, a former Christian Science church, retained its 1914 E. M. Skinner organ, Op. 208 (the oldest functioning Skinner in Illinois, according to our Atlas), a modest 3m instrument whose pipes stand at the back of the platform in front of the 900-seat auditorium built in the Neoclassic style favored by Mary Baker Eddy. The console is on the stage. Recitalist Scott Montgomery began with Saint-Saëns’ Fantaisie in E-flat. The forte sections demonstrated the sturdy foundation stops echoed by the Cornopean—a great sound. Montgomery played Bach’s transcription of Vivaldi’s Concerto in D Minor, BWV 596, in the Romantic tradition, with shades and all. I loved the ppp strings in the second movement. It worked surprisingly well.

In the Choral of Widor’s Symphony No. 7, op. 42, no. 3, Montgomery captured the mood nicely, alternating string, flute, and foundation tone. Scherzo from Vierne’s Symphony No. 2, op. 20, was an audience favorite; Montgomery did a fine job, and so did the Skinner. Huge flute sounds crowned the ensemble. Dudley Buck’s Variations on Home, Sweet Home, op. 30, displayed the big, bold Cornopean, Vox Humana, Flügel Horn, and the Great Philomela. The Swell Aeoline and Unda Maris closed the piece—wonderful sounds that made my mouth water. One young member was heard to say, “I want an E. M. Skinner in my church!” In a beautiful calm Calvin Hampton Lullaby, Montgomery summoned all of the organ’s softest sounds. The Swell Gedackt accompanied the Clarinet in the tenor range; the Vox Humana was heard again as a solo with a 4′ flute. Unda Maris and Aeoline were a great combination. This is a piece your congregation would love!

In Guilmant’s Caprice in B-flat, op. 20, no. 3 from Pièces dans différents styles, Book VI, there was a good deal of playful shifting of manuals—welcome after the Hampton’s quiet gentility, and very well played. This organ has no general pistons, so Montgomery employed two very skilled stop pullers. The hymn was Mary Baker Eddy’s “It matters not what be thy lot” (Gloaming). Montgomery closed his fine program with John Knowles Paine’s sturdy Concert Variations on the Austrian Hymn, op. 3, no. 1—always a good tour of an organ. We returned to the hotel tired but exhilarated. 

 

Thursday, July 12

Thursday dawned bright and sunny. At Chicago’s Evangelical Lutheran Church of St. Luke (ELCA) we heard Erik Wm. Suter play the large 1963 3m Schlicker. The church’s long, high nave offers wonderful acoustics. The main organ stands in the rear gallery, with a Positiv mounted on the railing. The clear, refined sound includes marvelous mixtures that were like cooling drops of water. A smaller unit organ is in front of the church. Suter opened with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in G, BWV 541; he has a fine and clean technique, and tempos were perfect for both music and room. 

Dale Wood’s gorgeous setting of In Thee Is Gladness began with strings and a 4′ flute. We also heard lovely solo reeds. In “Come down, O love divine” (Down Ampney), Suter showed brilliant hymn leadership. His time as organist at Washington National Cathedral was evident in a grandiose and thrilling style of playing; his last verse reharmonization was a thing of wonder.

In Peter Eben’s Nedelní Hudba (Music for Sunday), Finale, Suter put the blazing reeds on full display. After a quiet section with strings, solo flutes, and quiet solo reeds, some growling and menacing pedal sounds took us back to the louder, livelier music. Organ and organist were a fabulous combination; this fantastic concert was a great start to the day. 

We proceeded to the huge and imposing St. Josaphat’s Church in Chicago, in Romanesque style with massive stone walls, blessed in 1902. The first organ in the rear gallery, built by the Wisconsin Pipe Organ Factory in 1902, was replaced in 1924 by a 3m Kilgen, Op. 3386, which used some pipes from the previous instrument and retained its case. In 2004, the Bradford Organ Company installed a “much traveled” 1872 2m Johnson Organ Company Op. 386 in the nave on the right side. Our recitalist Bernadette Wagner earned her bachelor’s degree from the Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University; she is now a graduate student at Arizona State University. Wagner began with two Brahms settings of O Welt, ich muß dich lassen on the Kilgen; diapasons were warm and rich in the reverberant space—nicely played. She then came downstairs to the Johnson organ for the hymn “Creator spirit, by whose aid” (Surrey). Bernadette Wagner and the room-filling sound of this 14 stop-organ were quite up to the task of accompanying us. 

Movements II and III of Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 4 in B-flat, op. 65, featured the organ’s beautiful Clarinet, Oboe and Bassoon, and lovely flutes—very pleasing playing with a well-developed sense of musical line. Wagner closed her fine recital with Daniel Pinkham’s The Book of Hours, a nice demonstration of the various combinations on this well-made treasure from another century. 

Chicago’s Wicker Park Evangelical Lutheran Church, ELCA, was formally organized in 1879; the present Romanesque church was finished in 1907. The 1907 Möller tracker is still in use; sadly, however, only part of the Swell division was operable, so much of the program was compromised; at times it was difficult to even hear the organ. Our players were Dennis Northway and Adam Gruber. Northway opened with a very soft Clarence Eddy Prelude in A Minor, using the Möller’s beautiful strings very well, then played Harrison M. Wild’s ironically named hymn “Softly fades the twilight ray.” Adam Gruber played two selections from Bach’s Orgelbüchlein, and Northway played Pachelbel’s Aria Sebaldina from Hexachordum Apollinis (1699). I felt sorry for these gentlemen having to play an instrument not up to convention standards. We had to listen very carefully to hear anything, but I must say that it was always worth the effort. 

During free time downtown, we could either visit the Chicago Cultural Center in the grand old former public library, or, as I did, cross Michigan Avenue and visit Millennium Park with its fantastic Frank Gehry-designed bandshell, and the three-story Anish Kapoor “Cloud Gate” steel sculpture (known locally as “The Bean”). The entire complex is brilliant.

A problem arose, beyond the convention leaders’ control. The 1927 3m Estey at the John Murphy Auditorium of the American College of Surgeons was unable to be played. So our brave recitalist, Cathryn Wilkins, moved to a quite different venue and organ—the huge 4m Aeolian-Skinner in the Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Avenue, across the street from the 100-story John Hancock Center—and very quickly adapted her program. Designed for a very different instrument, the program did not make full use of this organ’s range, but was nevertheless entertaining. Wilkins played some waltzes by Brahms for piano, Vierne’s Scherzetto from 24 Pièces, and Le Cygne from Saint-Saëns’ Carnival of the Animals. She ended with three movements from In Fairyland by Roy Spalding Stoughton (1884–1953)—a pleasant recital. 

Our buses took us to Navy Pier—a huge place with a highly charged carnival atmosphere. We boarded “The Spirit of Chicago” for a late-afternoon harbor cruise and buffet dinner. The dramatic Chicago skyline was very beautiful. We enjoyed each other’s company and the tasty food. 

As we were downtown at 6 pm, when traffic was busy (with numerous street carnivals), our buses got snagged—the only bus problem all week. Our evening recital was at St. Pauls United Church of Christ, founded in 1843 to serve German-speaking Protestants. In 1959 the present English Gothic-style building was completed and the 4m Aeolian-Skinner, Op. 1328, installed. Its main pipe chambers are situated above and on either side of the chancel. In 1998–2000 the Berghaus Organ Company completed the organ as originally planned, updating some of the mechanical features of the console, located at the front. 

Our performer was well-known Chicago organist David Schrader. It took about 40 minutes for everyone to arrive, and bless his heart, Schrader entertained us early arrivals with an impromptu performance, from memory, of Bach’s Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C Major. It was delightful. 

When the audience was finally in place, Schrader began with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E Minor, BWV 548 (“The Wedge”). Some of the playing was rushed, which took away from the towering majesty of Bach’s music. The organ was more than up to the style, and Schrader used it quite well. In Commotio, op. 53 by Carl Nielsen (1865–1931), we heard mixture tone for a very long time, which, right after the Bach, grew tiresome. Finally, some flute sounds were heard, leading to contrasting dynamics in another section. A fugue began—Schrader’s tempos were just fine. We then heard what I believe was the lovely Gedeckt in the Antiphonal division, located high in the rear balcony—imaginative and colorful use of contrast. He used dramatic moments to good effect. The piece was OK, but it seemed to be longer than needed. Although Schrader played it well, my ears could have done with less mixture tone; at the end, he drew all of the high-pitched mixtures, bordering on painful after such a long piece.

After intermission, the lovely hymn “O blest Creator of the light” (Lucis Creator) was followed by Frank Ferko’s Symphonie brève (1987). The opening Andante had a running bass line in the pedals, with foundation stops and reeds in chords on the manuals. Attractive flute sounds accompanied a Cornet. The pedal motion returned with punctuations from those singular A/S reeds. The Toccata began on strings and flutes with fast figures. A bonny solo flute sounded out a tune in the pedal’s tenor range. We heard wonderful colors in this very appealing work. In the final Chorale, the use of mixtures and reeds was startling. The writing was fresh, sort of Messiaen or Langlais “lite”. 

Schrader closed with Reger’s Fantasia and Fugue in D Minor, op. 135b. Plenty of contrast is called for and we got it, in a fine tour of this noble instrument’s fine solo voices and choruses. It was all beautifully played with great attention to the rhythmic and thematic structure.

 

Friday, July 13

The final day, devoted to regional organbuilders, began with Sebastian M. Glück’s lecture on “Innovation, Adaptation, and Stagnation: The Tonal Trajectory of the Roosevelt Organ.” Hilborne and Frank Roosevelt, aristocratic æsthetes as well as businessmen, were interested in organbuilding. Glück discussed their life and work, people who influenced them, and how their work still influences American organ building over a century after their deaths—most interesting.

We then were bused to Grace Lutheran Church in River Forest. Founded in 1902, the present English Gothic-style building was dedicated in 1931. The organ began as Skinner Organ Company, Op. 833, a 3m, 36-rank organ, rebuilt in 1956 by Schlicker. In 1987, it was rebuilt and enlarged to its present size by the Berghaus Organ Company of Bellwood, Illinois. The pipes are in twin chambers on either side of the altar, the console in a balcony over the left transept. The church has beautiful carvings and a live acoustic. 

Organist Karen Schneider Kirner began with a hymn: “As daylight steals across the skies.” Kirner wrote the tune, Morning Hymn, which was quite good. Eugène Gigout’s Grand Chœur dialogué made good use of the reeds. I could have done with less mixture tone. Kirner’s steady playing gave this majestic piece its just due. After Gigout’s Scherzo, from Dix Pièces, we then heard Variations sur un Noël bourguignon by André Fleury (1903–95), which showed some of the organ’s softer stops as well as fuller sounds. The music was attractive—like an updating of Dandrieu. 

This is a very loud organ. Seated in the front row, I wished that I had sat further back because Kirner may have crossed a line with overuse of tutti. Mixtures and reeds together over a long stretch of time is tiring.

A Gigue for the Tuba Stop by Donald Stuart Wright (b. 1940) was next—a thrilling piece, but again loud. My ears longed for strings and flutes played with the shades closed. Chicago composer Keith S. Kalemba’s (b. 1972) Toccata was also a loud piece. Kirner is a fine organist, but her programming choices were not wise. We did not hear any of the soft solo reeds. Another hymn followed: “Sing the Lord a new song,” to a tune written by Ms. Kirner. One final blazingly loud piece brought her program to a close: Marcel Dupré’s Carillon, from Sept Pièces, op. 27.

OHS convention recitalists usually take great pains to show the entire range and color of the organs to which they are assigned in thoughtfully and carefully chosen pieces. Sadly, this was not the case.

On to Wilmette, and St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church ELCA, to hear William Aylesworth, former organist at that church, long-time and well-loved performer at OHS conventions, and past OHS president. The church, founded in 1903, built its present English Gothic red brick worship space in 1923. Aylesworth told us that he was approached in the late 1980s by the Bradford Organ Company, offering to build an organ as an example of what they could do with recycled materials from other organs. The result was Bradford’s Op. 6 from 1990, a very successful 2m instrument. It stands in a small transept, with pipework in a chamber to the left of the altar, using a space formerly occupied by a Wangerin organ. 

Aylesworth began with “O God, our help in ages past” (St. Anne). Bill was organist here for 38 years, and knows how to lead a hymn in this space. It was beautifully played. Bach’s Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott, BWV 680, wonderfully showed this organ’s great clarity. Ich ruf’ zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, BWV 639, demonstrated the lovely Oboe with tremolo. In Dandrieu’s Trio avec Pédale, we heard the warm Clarinet, which came from a Hutchings organ. The beautiful Great 4′ Gedeckt, and the Swell 4′ Flute d’Amour (from a Johnson & Son organ, Op. 389) worked very well. Dandrieu’s Duo en cors de chasse sur la trompette used, I believe, the Great Trumpet, which came from a 19th-century organ. It had a surprisingly robust sound.

Aylesworth ended his fine recital with Guilmant: Three Nöels, op. 60, demonstrated more solo stops; Marche sur un thème de Hændel, op. 15, no. 2 was very well played and sent us out on a high!

At Glenview Community Church (UCC), we heard young organist Stephen Buzard in music for organ and brass quintet. The organ was built by Stephen’s father’s company: John-Paul Buzard Pipe Organ Builders, Champaign, Illinois, Op. 21 (1999). In the Colonial-style church the organ is in three chambers behind the altar; a rank of Principal pipes provides façades for each of them. The center chamber’s façade is of polished tin, while the flanking chamber façades are flamed copper. The console is in the French style; the organ as a whole is highly eclectic, speaking with a sturdy sound and a wide range of color and tone on its 69 ranks.

Bach’s Concerto in C Major after Johann Ernst, BWV 595, was a clean, spirited performance with just the right amount of rubato, followed by Buzard’s own transcription of Schubert’s Du bist die Ruh, D. 776, displaying strings and several beautiful solo stops (my favorite was the Great 4′ Open Flute with tremolo), played with sweet sensitivity. Duruflé’s Scherzo, op. 2, showed more of this instrument’s variety and range.

In Percy Whitlock’s Five Short Pieces, the Allegretto used the many flute stops. The Great Harmonic Flute was featured as a solo accompanied by the Choir strings. We also heard the Swell Trompette in the tenor range. Paean featured the Major Tuba 8′ stop (on 15 inches of wind), quite thrilling. We then sang Stephen Buzard’s arrangement of the hymn “How shall I sing that majesty” (Coe Fen, a marvelous tune). The time he spent in England was very much evident in his style of playing. Prelude, Elegy and Scherzo by Carlyle Sharpe (b. 1965) was commissioned for this convention by Rodney Holmes. Stephen used many beautiful solo stops in Elegy, beginning with a sad little song on the Choir’s Cor Anglais, then a tiny Cornet, the Corno di Bassetto, and this organ’s beautiful strings. The lively Scherzo for organ and brass is a good addition to the repertoire. 

Stephen Buzard ended this superb recital with Jeanne Demessieux’s Te Deum, op. 11, easily communicating the profound nature of this music, all very splendid. We heard this fine organ play music from many different periods and national styles with ease—and Stephen Buzard is someone to watch!

The grand finale of the convention was a visit to the Place de la Musique in Barrington Hills, Illinois. It has the world’s largest collection of restored automatic musical instruments, the largest theatre organ in the world (5m, 80 ranks), and is also the private residence of Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Sanfilippo. The 46-acre complex includes an enormous shed that houses most of the mechanical instruments and a huge carousel. We ate a picnic supper amidst this collection, then soon made our way to the 44,000 square-foot house with its huge theatre organ in a massive auditorium big enough to hold the entire convention. The organ comes from many sources—some new, some vintage. There are four 32′ ranks; the massive 32′ Diaphone and Bombarde pipes line the walls on either side of the stage, as do the countless percussions, including a set of 32 Deagan Tower Bells, the largest of which we were told weighs 426 pounds! 

Our multi-talented recitalist, Jonathan Ortloff (looking quite snappy in his bright red socks), presented a highly entertaining program of mostly familiar music played with great style and good humor. We heard the theme from Family Guy, some sweet salutes to the late Henry Mancini (Charade and Moon River), a bit of nostalgia for those of us of a certain age, “Puffin’ Billy” (or as I remember it, the theme from Captain Kangaroo). The Trolley Song used all manner of percussion sounds, which raised the roof! Ortloff’s transcription of Stravinsky’s L’Oiseaux de Feu (Tableau II) showed great skill. I really admire his generation of organists who have become so adept at the art of transcription. He ended with An American in Paris, which was great fun. But the part of the recital that left us all in pain with laughter was the hymn “Earth and All Stars” (Dexter), one not exactly on my list of favorites. The text is unintentionally humorous—I cannot get past “loud boiling test tubes” with a straight face. On this huge organ, Jonathan was able to illustrate each turn of phrase in sound effects that were hilarious and a perfect end to the evening. 

This was a very good convention. Instruments, recitals, performers, lecturers—the great variety never left us bored. Buses were agreeable, respectful of our needs, on time, and quiet during recitals. Food was filling and good, and the publications (Atlas, Handbook, and Hymnlet) were beautifully produced, with wonderful content. (Good companions to the above would be Pipe Organs of Chicago, Vols. 1 and 2, by Stephen Schnurr and Dennis Northway. Gorgeous photographs, specifications, and histories of each building and instrument will keep you entertained for hours.) This was the third OHS convention in Chicago; we certainly saw and heard a breadth and depth of pipe organ beauty that other cities would be more than pleased to have. We were treated with great humor and kindness all week long. The committee did an outstanding job! Bravo, Chicago! “It’s my kind of town.” 

The 2013 convention is in beautiful Vermont: http://www.organsociety.org/2013/. See you there!

 

 

Photo credit: William T. Van Pelt, III