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Skinner Opus 774 Is Saved

Skinner Opus 774 is in like-new condition, thoroughly appreciated, and safely installed in its new California home

 

Mike Foley was born and raised in Manchester, Connecticut. He studied piano for 15 years and essentially taught himself to play theatre organ. He saw his first pipe organ at age 13 and, as he puts it, was never the same thereafter. With friend Tom Felice’s help, he started collecting and selling used organ pipes and parts, and when he was 17, they bought and installed the organ from Hartford’s Colonial Theatre. 

In 1968 he teemed up with William Castle Baker to form a “Keyboard Instrument Service” business they called Foley-Baker Enterprises. Within months, and with some professionally designed advertising, business grew to include the care of pianos, harpsichords, electronic keyboards, and pipe organs. In 1982, Mike split off all but the pipe organ department to concentrate on building a high quality and nationally recognized pipe organ service business.  

Foley-Baker Inc. employs 15 full-time technicians who, Mike acknowledges, are the reason behind the firm’s success. FBI services instruments throughout the Northeast and is regularly engaged in major work throughout America, some of it high profile.

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It was July of 2004. The voice on the phone was Douglass Hunt, premier organ technician for some of New York City’s highest profile churches and their giant organs. He had been in contact with Christ Church in the posh Bronx village of Riverdale. They were very interested in acquiring Skinner Opus 774, an original 1929 organ still installed at St. Paul’s Memorial Reformed Church in Reading, Pennsylvania. The building was closed and the organ needed to find a home as soon as possible. Doug asked if we would survey both the organ and Christ Church for a possible match. We did, but alas, the organ couldn’t be made to fit. Christ Church went back to their drawing board and the Skinner settled in for what was becoming a long and nervous wait for a new home. St. Paul’s building sale was under contract. The new owner wasn’t interested in the organ. It had to go, and soon.  

Others came to see this dirty but otherwise untouched Skinner. In each case, a match wasn’t possible. Closing day was fast approaching but a new owner was not . . . until a chance meeting with Jack Bethards of Schoenstein in San Francisco. At lunch, we got talking about Skinners and all the activity in resurrecting these somewhat forgotten masterpieces. Jack relayed a story about the Episcopal Church of St. Mark in Glendale, California, that was seriously looking for a vintage Skinner of about 30 ranks. Bingo! Many phone calls and one plane trip later, James Wallace, then music director of St. Mark’s, visited and heard the organ. To confirm his findings he brought none other than concert organist Peter Richard Conte and the Wanamaker organ’s curator, Curt Mangel. All quickly agreed: Opus 774 had found its new home.

Back in Glendale, Rector Mark Weitzel met with assistants and key church members to determine if there was hope for making the dream happen. Besides the organ, the project required a second organ chamber to be constructed above the transept—no small job and with no small cost. An important initial donation by longtime parishioner Isabel Soule launched the project, and our firm was asked to remove the organ to our shop, where it would sleep until adequate funding could be raised for reconditioning and installation.

We were overflowing with work and were forced to seek warehouse storage. As luck would have it, two weeks after the organ was freshly packed away, the warehouse representative called to announce they were closing—but that we could simply move the organ to their second and new warehouse in a neighboring town for just a slightly higher monthly rental rate. With no alternative, we did, and then a year after that, the second warehouse called to say we had to remove the organ, as they were converting to a specialty form of storage that certainly didn’t include pipe organs. Even the organ was getting tired of the moves. So much for “professional” storage warehouses. Thank goodness, Phil Carpenter, our head of field operations, makes certain that each piece is inventoried as this helped ward off the possibility of loss with all the shuffling. No more warehouses; we brought Opus 774 to our Tolland facility—on one of the hottest days on record in Connecticut. Certainly, this is one well-traveled Skinner.  

It was now 2007 and at Glendale fund-raising went into high gear. Brochures were printed and the committee did all but pound on doors to raise over a third of the necessary funds. Then, the miracle happened. In 2007 the Bradley Foundation of Philadelphia took interest in the project and agreed to give a generous amount to save Opus 774. Incredibly, not long thereafter, a grant writer located the Ahmanson Foundation, based in Los Angeles. Yet a second and generous donation from this trust, established for the arts, offered an amount that brought fundraising to the point that the church felt comfortable going to contract. Ongoing fund-raising of every type and variety gathered the remaining needed funds.

The organ’s quality and excellent condition proved itself during the reconditioning process. With not a pipe or screw missing, the instrument responded beautifully to the reconditioning process and then fit perfectly into the chambers at St. Mark’s. Every piece of leather, be it valve, gasket, reservoir, pouch or pneumatic, was replaced. Every pipe was washed and regulated. Every wire was replaced and every board refinished. Thanks to the efforts of all involved and the fact that we had designed, cut, and pre-erected each division, installation went like clockwork and the organ was in and running within a few weeks. Tonal finishing took less than a month. St. Mark’s enjoys a reverberant acoustic, and the organ, in its new chancel chambers, has no problem filling the room.

The project was completed early and the organ was ready for Christmas of 2009. The dedication concert was on April 25, 2010. Peter Richard Conte, with his special affinity for early twentieth-century Skinners, put the organ through its paces. The “new” Opus 774 hosted a most memorable concert.

Like so many organ projects, this one was faced with more than its share of obstacles and also like others, this project was sprinkled with people who roll up their sleeves, push the obstacles aside, and make a difference. The result is that Opus 774 is in like-new condition, thoroughly appreciated, and safely installed in its new California home.

 

 

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East Texas Pipe Organ Festival, November 14–17, 2011

Michael Fox

Michael Alan Fox is a retired bookseller and publisher who reviewed organ records for The Absolute Sound for 15 years. Growing up in San Francisco, he fell in love with Aeolian-Skinners while listening to Richard Purvis at Grace Cathedral; and as a disciple of Maurice John Forshaw—Jean Langlais’ first American pupil—he has an unshakable faith in seamless legato. He is organist of All Saints Episcopal Church in Hillsboro, Oregon.

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The East Texas Pipe Organ Festival took place November 14–17 in and around Kilgore, Texas, and was one of the best organ-related gatherings I have ever attended. This was largely because of two men: Roy Perry, the former organist-choirmaster of the First Presbyterian Church of Kilgore, and Texas representative for Aeolian-Skinner; and Lorenz Maycher, the current Kilgore incumbent, and devoted historian of Aeolian-Skinner, who decided that Perry’s achievements deserved wider recognition.

 

Harrison & Perry

Admirers of the company know that
G. Donald Harrison held Perry’s work—and zany humor—in high esteem, and the Texas instruments that were installed by the Williams family of New Orleans and finished by Perry have a special place in the hierarchy of Aeolian-Skinner organs. (See “The Williams Family of New Orleans: Installing and Maintaining Aeolian-Skinner Organs,” by Lorenz Maycher, The Diapason, May 2006.) Perry’s own organ in Kilgore was featured prominently in the King of Instruments recordings that the company released to promote its organs, and the slightly larger sister organ in Longview was used by Catharine Crozier to make two important recordings of American organ music. If for no other reason, the Kilgore organ would have its place in history as the organ that introduced the chamade trumpet to America, perhaps a cause for sorrowful head-shaking to many.

Fashions changed in the following decades, and many regarded the American Classic ideal as unsatisfactory eclecticism, and it must be said that even before Harrison’s death that approach seemed to be narrowing its scope even as it was narrowing its scales, and some notable instruments came to be deprecated or ignored—or, worse, rebuilt.

Through these decades, some organists continued to maintain that the Roy Perry organs were very special. He figured prominently in Charles Callahan’s histories of Aeolian-Skinner, with letters to and from G. Donald Harrison. Inevitably, tastes changed yet again, and some of the Romantic aspects of Perry’s designs once again could be seen as reflections of a good musical sense rather than deviations from classical ideals. But the piney woods of east Texas are a long way from big musical centers, and mostly the instruments sat ignored by the larger world. One of them had even fallen on hard times, and due to changing worship styles was sitting unused.

I was enough of a dedicated admirer of G. Donald Harrison organs that I had occasional retirement fantasies about jumping in the car and heading on a long diagonal trek from the Douglas firs of the Northwest to the loblolly pines of Texas and actually hearing those two organs. For one reason or another, the fantasy trek never happened; and so when I read the announcement of this East Texas Pipe Organ Festival I signed up immediately. It ran from a Monday evening opening concert through Thursday evening, three non-stop days and nights.

The festival was essentially on the scale of an unusually good AGO regional, but it really was the work of one man with whatever support he may have asked for and received from others; those are details of which I know nothing. But however Lorenz Maycher made it happen, the organization was impressive. There were 50 or 60 attendees, a comfortable and convenient headquarters hotel, a
giant bus, catered meals that were never less than good and in the case of a gumbo dinner, just terrific, organs that had been freshly tuned (and because of some odd swings in the weather, even retuned), hospitable churches, and first-rate recitalists. For arranging this tribute to Roy Perry, Lorenz Maycher undoubtedly earned himself a place in the ongoing Aeolian-Skinner saga.

 

Opening concert

The opening concert was at First Presbyterian in Kilgore, and the program repeated the content of Roy Perry’s original recording, “Music of the Church,” Volume Ten in the King of Instruments series. A choir of some 30 voices was conducted by Frances Anderson, who as an Austin College student had sung on the original record. After the appropriate opening hymn (Engelberg), the choir, accompanied by Robert Brewer, sang Parry’s I Was Glad, Ireland’s Greater Love Hath No Man, and Vaughan Williams’s setting of Old Hundredth. Practical considerations led to the substitution of Elgar’s The Spirit of the Lord Is upon Me for David McK. Williams’s In the Year That King Uzziah Died, and following the congregational singing of St. Clement, Lorenz Maycher played Bruce Simonds’s Iam sol recedit igneus, the only organ solo on the original record. 

The concert set the tone for the festival perfectly. First Presbyterian is not a huge church—I’d guess that it seats around 300—and even though seat cushions had been removed, it is not a particularly live room. It is not a hostile building: music is clear and well balanced there, but it gets very little enhancement, so the organ’s glory is of its own making. It didn’t take long for that glory to be evident, as Robert Brewer accompanied the choir superbly. The Parry was tremendously exciting, even without the “Vivats”, and that first Trompette-en-chamade is still one of the very best examples, a well-nigh perfect balance of brilliance and body, just loud enough to dominate.

As I heard throughout that concert, and in the succeeding events in that church, Roy Perry’s own organ, Aeolian-Skinner opus 1173, embodies that kind of musical balance in any number of voices. Uniquely, I think, among instruments carrying the G. Donald Harrison signature plate, it is only “rebuilt” by Harrison, since it started life as a Möller, and much of the structure and even pipework (including the notable French Horn) remains from its origin. This perhaps makes Roy Perry’s achievement as a tonal finisher even more notable, because this instrument of 69 ranks is versatile and elegant beyond description. Other Harrisons that I have heard and loved—Grace Cathedral, Church of the Advent, St. John the Divine, etc.—owe something of their effect to their glorious buildings. Kilgore does it all on its own, and I left the concert convinced that I had just heard one of the world’s truly great organs.

 

Tuesday, November 15

The following day offered more opportunities to hear just how versatile the Kilgore organ is, as Maycher, former organist Jimmy Culp (who two days later was honored by the grateful church as its Organist Emeritus), and Casey Cantwell played organ works particularly associated with Opus 1173: Dreams, by Hugh McAmis; Christos Patterakis, by Roy Perry; A Solemn Melody, by Walford Davies; Nun komm der Heiden Heiland, by Bach; Introduction, Passacaglia and Fugue, by Healey Willan; Alleluia, by Charles Callahan; Songs of Faith and Penitence, and Requiescat in Pace, by Leo Sowerby; and The Way to Emmaus, by Jaromir Weinberger.

There were also reminiscences of Roy Perry, as there were later in the week; by my reckoning he would have emerged as the undisputed champion in an all-time contest of Readers’ Digest Most Unforgettable Characters. Attendees learned that his lovely Christos Patterakis was named not for some obscure Orthodox melody, but for an obscure name he saw on a local election campaign poster in California; his irreverence and impishness were as fully developed as his ear for proper pipe speech. For me the highlight among all this music-making was the performance of Weinberger’s solo cantata The Way to Emmaus for soprano and organ. Anneliese von Goerken did a lovely job on the demanding vocal part (it concludes on a pianissimo high A after 22 pages of very chromatic writing); Maycher showed off opus 1173 as no less spectacular an accompanying instrument. 

The Weinberger cantata for years was a tradition on Easter afternoon at Riverside Church, and I have retained a vivid memory of hearing Louise Natale and Fred Swann perform it in the late 1970s. The Kilgore organ was easily the equal of the Riverside giant in providing all of the color required. (I missed only the few Chimes strikes that Swann added; Maycher was faithful to Weinberger’s score.) Part of the magic and the versatility comes from the enclosure of most of the Great, which is both a Great (a splendid Principal chorus, with three mixtures including one that caps full organ in much the same way as the famous
Terzzymbel at Washington Cathedral) and a Solo, with an English Horn and a French Horn to go with an eloquent Flute Harmonique. With some very imaginative thinking, Roy Perry transcended the limits of the usual three-manual instrument and enabled it to be a giant in flexibility.

Later in the afternoon, Casey Cantwell demonstrated another approach Roy Perry took: at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church in Kilgore, opus 1175, he designed a very substantial instrument in a smallish room, but laid it out on two very complete manuals rather than the expected three. The Great, again partially enclosed, is almost enormous at 18 ranks; and the Swell has a chamade Trompette in addition to the usual reed chorus. In a dead room it seems like a recipe for disaster, but Casey Cantwell, moving on from having played the Willan Introduction, Passacaglia and Fugue on Opus 1173 in the morning, demonstrated that Perry knew what he was doing. It played the Bach Prelude and Fugue in E-flat well enough for these ears, and did a thrilling job with the John Cook Fanfare. The program also included Harold Darke’s Meditation on “Brother James’s Air,” Two Meditations on “Herzliebster Jesu” by Mark Jones, and Bach’s Adagio Cantabile arranged by Roy Perry. Cantwell improvised on some hymns, giving the attendees a chance to sing along as the themes were presented, and it was a model church organ in supporting congregational singing. And my fears at seeing those trumpets aimed at us were unfounded; they, and the organ, were just right. In an ideal world you might hope for a livelier room, but working in the real world Perry delivered a very satisfying and completely musical organ.

In the evening, Brett Valliant demonstrated further capabilities of Opus 1173 by using it to accompany a Harold Lloyd film, but I can’t comment on whether that worked or not, since I decided to save my energy for the late night cash bar, where more Roy Perry stories abounded. There sure are some great storytellers in Texas.

 

Wednesday, November 16

The following day the giant bus made the 70-mile trip east to Shreveport, where the group enjoyed the hospitality of the historic Shreveport Scottish Rite Temple, having lunch and dinner in a distinguished dining room. Upstairs in the 500-seat auditorium we heard Charles Callahan demonstrate the sounds of the 1917–1921 four-manual Pilcher, some voices of which weren’t available. Like all such fraternal orders, it faces an aging and declining membership; the preservation of their remarkable buildings, which are usually among the notable structures in every city where they are found, should be yet another cause to which organists might rally.

The major attraction in Shreveport was St. Mark’s Cathedral, Roy Perry’s largest installation. It was designed by G. Donald Harrison in conjunction with Perry and William Teague, then fresh out of the Curtis Institute and embarking on a long career at the cathedral, but it was not built until the Whiteford years. The festival’s visit to the cathedral was preceded by a session of further reminiscences of Perry at St. Mark’s former building, now the Church of the Holy Cross, where a 1920 E. M. Skinner was rebuilt by Aeolian-Skinner in 1949. William Teague—“Uncle Billy” to Roy Perry, and I suppose now about 90 (see “William Teague awarded Doctor of Fine Arts degree by Centenary College,” The Diapason, October 2011, p. 10)—was the star of the show, with a flood of stories that illustrated both Perry’s care for music, as when he sent pipes from the Kilgore strings back to Boston so that the scales could be duplicated for Teague’s organ then in the shop, and his wild sense of humor.

The St. Mark’s organ sounded particularly lovely in Charles Callahan’s prelude to the Evensong service, an atmospheric improvisation that hung in the air like wisps of incense. Following Evensong, Robert McCormick played a recital that started with a particularly colorful performance of the Elgar Sonata, and included three improvisations by Pierre Cochereau, reconstructed by Jeanne Joulain; McNeil Robinson’s Prelude on Llanfair, and Larry King’s Fanfares to the Tongues of Fire; the program ended with an improvisation on submitted themes. The cathedral has a generous acoustic, and the organ sounds like a vintage Perry right up to the point that the big reeds come on. I may be in a minority, but the Solo Major Trumpet unit was the first less-than-beautiful reed I had heard, and the Trompette-en-chamade in the Gallery ranks with that thing at the back of Riverside Church as the ugliest specimen I’ve experienced, and although I wasn’t carrying an SPL meter to be exact about it, I think it was brighter and nastier. I’ll bet Roy Perry would have agreed with me. But the unpleasantness was washed away later back at the hotel by an excellent martini—“Mother’s Milk” in Perry-speak. 

Thursday, November 17

The third day started with a little jewel, the 22-rank opus 1153A in the First Baptist Church of Nacogdoches. Roy Perry priorities are made clear by the presence of two celestes in a small two-manual, and again the organ fits the church like a dream. The church itself was an odd amalgam: distinctive stained glass windows and this vintage American Classic organ on the one hand, a full drum kit opposite the console and a light bridge that would be adequate for a good regional theatre on the other. In any case, Joseph Causby did a great job with a varied program from Bach to Locklair—that last being a substitution that allowed us to hear some very nice Chimes, again a voice found in most Perry organs. No snob, he . . . The program: Bach, Pièce d’Orgue, BWV 572, O Mensch bewein dein Sünde gross; Hindemith, Sonata I; Thalben-Ball, Tune in E; Duruflé, Scherzo, op. 2; Howells, Psalm Prelude, set 1, no. 3; and Guilmant, Final (Symphony No. 1 in D Minor). 

And the day continued in glory. I had gotten Catharine Crozier’s recordings from Longview in my teen years, but I wasn’t prepared for the size and magnificence of the building. It is like no other church I have seen, Gothic stripped down to the essential pointed arch and built in yellow brick on a grand scale. The window at the east end of the church is 66 high by 16 wide, and that reflects the sheer verticality of the design. The organ, Opus 1174, sits in chambers on either side of that lofty chancel, and Charles Callahan demonstrated its 85 ranks in a fascinating recital, mostly of unfamiliar pieces that I’m sure were chosen to show off every aspect of the organ: Wallace Sabin, Bourée in the olden style; Bach, Fantasie con Imitazione, All glory be to God on high, Lord God, now open wide Thy heavens, We all believe in one God; Cimarosa, Sonata IX; Handel, Andante; Paradies, Sicilienne; Gounod, Marche Nuptiale; Salomé, Villanelle; Jongen, Pastorale; Foote, Night–A Meditation, op. 61; Callahan, Three Gospel Preludes, Three Spirituals from Spiritual Suite, Fanfares and Riffs. It sounded wonderful in that huge room, a more sympathetic acoustic than Kilgore, and Opus 1174, wide open, filled it perfectly, the 8 and 4 Trompettes and Cornet of the Bombarde division being ideal climax reeds—but its quiet Romantic voices were just as effective. It is sad to think that the organ had fallen into disuse for some years and then was severely damaged by catastrophic leaks, but it is a cause for rejoicing that the church repaired and restored one of the real monuments of American Classic organbuilding.

The final event was a recital back at Kilgore by Richard Elliott, one of the masters of the Mormon Tabernacle Organ: Handel, La Rejouissance (Music for the Royal Fireworks); Bach, In dir ist Freude, BWV 615, Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582; Daquin, The Cuckoo; Widor, Andante sostenuto (Symphonie gothique, op. 70); Gawthrop, Sketchbook I; Elliot, Sing praise to God who reigns above, Be Thou my vision, Swing low, sweet chariot; Wagner, arr. Lemare, The Ride of the Valkyries. I’m sure the church elders were gratified to hear someone who daily plays an organ almost three times the size speak of how thrilled he was to be playing the Kilgore organ for the first time! In turn he managed to thrill the large audience, first with a superb performance of the Bach Passacaglia in the grand manner (every line of counterpoint there to be heard, but also every ounce of drama and passion—not the sort of effect you can get from a start-to-finish forte plenum), and finally with an all-out Ride of the Valkyries, with that miraculous Trompette-en-chamade spurring the riders on. Very exciting stuff—an over-the-top ending to an exciting week.

I am boundlessly grateful to Lorenz Maycher for organizing this heartfelt tribute to Roy Perry and his instruments. I can’t imagine how many hours’ work must have gone into planning all of the necessary arrangements and making everything work so smoothly. The music came first, but it was accompanied by good food and comfortable accommodations, and lots and lots of late-night stories. If the festival is repeated, I’ll sign up the day it’s announced, and you should, too.

Amidst the glorious music and the fun, there was an occasion for solemn reflection when the bus en route to Shreveport stopped to visit Roy Perry’s grave. His last years were difficult, and his death was tragic. His final resting place is in the family cemetery of the Crims, the local eminences who had built the church, donated the organ, and supported Perry’s musical education. His gravestone reads, “Music, once admitted to a soul, becomes a spirit and never dies.” Amen! 

 

 

56th OHS National Convention

June 27-July 2, 2011, Washington, D.C.

Frank Rippl

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

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In the immortal words of Charles  Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Now, please don’t be alarmed by those words, because the convention itself was really wonderful: terrific organs, organists, many and varied venues displaying the remarkable depth available in and around our nation’s capital—from the National Cathedral to a former convent chapel. The hotel, the food, the displays and the well-researched Atlas were just fine and highly commendable.

The only bad thing, that “worst of times,” which nearly brought the convention to its knees, was an inept bus situation that seemed to conspire against us each day by being hours late, not showing up at all, sending buses with not enough seats, or by being utterly confused as to how to get from point A to point B. It was frustrating, and many an oath was uttered. But we still had a good time in spite of the craziness. Because of the buses, I did miss one of the recitals on the last day, and I truly apologize to the performer. But enough of that. Let’s get on to the good things and the music!

The convention headquarters was at the Holiday Inn at Reagan National Airport—not far from Crystal City and Old Town Alexandria, and near the Pentagon. Coming in for a landing at Reagan Airport gives one a stunning view of the National Mall with the Capitol, the White House, and all the famous monuments. But, for organists, it is probably the sight of the National Cathedral that causes the heart to skip a beat or two. Checking in at the hotel, greeting old friends, and visiting the displays are familiar rituals of these conventions. It made it all seem very comfortable.

 

Opening event 

The first event of the convention was the recital that Monday night at the National Cathedral by Nathan Laube. The buses were hopelessly late with inadequate seating, so some of us jumped into cars and raced across town to the cathedral, which stands on the city’s highest hill, Mount St. Alban, making it easy to find. It never fails to impress. I sat in the Great Choir just in front of the console and enjoyed the view in this massive Gothic church. I was surrounded by pipes on three sides. Cathedral organist Scott Dettra greeted us and introduced the performer. Laube began with Cathedrals from Vierne’s Pièces de Fantaisie, op. 55, no. 4. He plumbed the depths of the huge stone space and the massive
E. M. Skinner foundation stops in a wonderful piece well suited to the occasion. Next was Pierre Cochereau’s Berceuse à la mémoire de Louis Vierne, transcribed by Frédéric Blanc. Like the first piece, it moved through the vast room at a majestic pace—quietly at first, then bringing in the gorgeous Skinner strings. Laube slowly added the reeds, culminating in a solo on the Tuba Mirabilis. He pulled back to the strings, along with what I believe was an 8 flute and a nazard in the right hand, and clarinet in the pedal. It was a brilliant demonstration of this organ’s huge range of orchestral color.

Laube then explored the neo-classic sounds of this instrument with Two Fantasies by Jehan Alain. He closed the first half of the program with a wild, neo-classic-style piece Dupré wrote in memory of his father—a Tutti that was astonishing in its power. Following intermission he offered salutes to two gentlemen associated with this cathedral: Leo Sowerby and Richard Wayne Dirksen. Sowerby’s Requiescat in Pace used the “subtle colors” of Skinner’s “Sowerby Swell”—lovely strings, solo stops, and chimes. The hymn was Rejoice, ye pure in heart to the tune Vineyard Haven by Richard Wayne Dirksen. Our “Hosannas” made a joyous roar that matched the organ. 

Laube ended with his own transcription of Liszt’s Les Préludes. Great salvos of sound were hurled through the arches of the cathedral. The familiar melodies, both loud and soft, fell on our ears like the voices of old and dear friends. We heard the Trumpet-en-Chamade (which is mounted above the reredos) and the 32 Bombarde for the first time. At other times, the Harp “plucked” away. For an encore he played Messiaen’s L’Ascension: II – Alléluias sereins—a perfect end to a truly extraordinary recital.

 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The first full day of the convention dawned bright and sunny with an amazing blue sky, making the sight of our first stop in Alexandria, Virginia, even more outstanding than it might have been. Standing atop Shuter’s Hill was the George Washington Masonic Memorial—a massive, tall, white stone structure, designed to resemble the ancient lighthouse of Alexandria, Egypt. The tower, completed in 1932, is capped with a pyramid. Inside was a great semi-circular hall lined with columns behind amphitheater-style seating. A large portrait of George Washington, dressed in his Masonic apron, hangs at the back of the stage. The three-manual Möller, Opus 8540 from 1953, was designed by Ernest White and Richard O. Whitelegg. The Atlas stated that White’s contribution was a Choir division with independent mutations and a Cromorne. The console was on the floor and against the stage, while the pipes were in the ceiling, speaking through an elaborate Art Deco grille.

Charles Miller, organist at National City Christian Church in Washington, D.C., opened with Marche aux Flambeaux by Frederick Scotson Clark, complete with trumpet fanfares. Next came Introduction and Fugue in D Minor by John Zundel. The introduction had alternating ff and mp sections, and the fugue moved along with zeal. I was struck by this organ’s strong bass sounds. Then Sowerby’s Chorale Prelude on Picardy showed off the softer side of this organ, especially the lovely Möller strings and flutes, and a rather thin Cromorne. 

Miller then played Mendelssohn’s Sonata II in C Minor. He drew dark and ponderous sounds for the Grave section, and the Adagio featured many opportunities for solo stops. The Allegro maestoso was brought off with just the right amount of style, as was the fugue. Dudley Buck’s Scherzo (from the Grand Sonata in E-flat) worked very well on this organ, as did Buck’s Variations on the Star Spangled Banner. The hymn was O Beautiful for Spacious Skies, a very moving song to sing in our nation’s capital. 

We were divided into two groups because the next venues were small. My group went to Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Collington, Maryland, where we heard Phillip L. Stimmel, an authority on Estey organs, play an Estey: Opus 655 (1908), two manuals, eight ranks, with tubular-pneumatic action. The Praeludium in A Minor by Clarence Eddy was a nice demonstration of the warm foundation stops. Ballade in D Minor by Joseph Clokey began on the Swell Stopped Diapason plus tremolo, with alternating passages on a particularly sweet Great Dulciana. An agreeable solo on the Swell reedless Oboe preceded a buildup to full organ; it then came back down to the opening sounds. In Beach’s Prelude on an Old Folk Tune, “The Fair Hills Of Eire, O,” Stimmel explored all the colors and registrations of this eight-rank organ, making it seem like a much larger instrument. Next was a favorite, Will o’ the Wisp by Gordon Balch Nevin. The hymn was O holy city, seen of John (Morning Song). Stimmel closed with Gardner Reed’s Once more, my soul, the rising day (Consolation, same tune as Morning Song), another good choice for this organ.

 

My group then went to St. Paul Moravian Church in Upper Marlboro, Maryland, to hear the church’s E. & G. G.
Hook & Hastings Opus 702 (1873), which has been enlarged and rebuilt by David M. Storey, Inc. between 1985 and 2010. Built for the temporary home of Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston, it was used until the present sanctuary was constructed. At some point it was moved down to the D.C. area. St. Paul’s first church was dedicated in 1972, and a second in 1985. The Hook organ was purchased in 1986. It sits in a transept of sorts to the right of the altar in this smallish modern red brick church, whose proud members welcomed us warmly.

Kevin Clemens, of Aberdeen, Maryland, opened with Tone Poem in F, op. 22, no. 1, by Niels Gade. Next was Arioso in the Ancient Style by James H. Rogers, which used the Oboe with tremolo. Then came Caprice by Cuthbert Harris, charming and well played, and Elevation from Messe Basse by Louis Vierne, in which we heard the rather nice Celeste, which was actually the former Great Dulciana. Next, The Cuckoo (Scherzino) by Powell Weaver, which featured the Oboe and the Melodia. The hymn was Sing praise to God who reigns above (Mit Freuden Zart). We were asked to sing harmony on the middle verse, but alas, our printed harmony was not what was played; we sang out with gusto, nonetheless. Clemens closed his program with Sousa’s Liberty Bell March

 

The next stop was St. John’s Episcopal Church, Broad Creek, King George Parish, Fort Washington, Maryland to hear Peter Crisafulli play the beautiful little Jacob Hilbus organ from 1819. Hilbus, born in Westphalia, Germany, was the first organbuilder in Washington. I would encourage the reader to see Michael Friesen’s excellent article in this convention’s Atlas on Hilbus’s work, and on this particular organ, as well as the fine article by convention chair Carl Schwartz. It is a lovely instrument to behold, with delicately carved pipe shades, one manual and no pedal. The sound was sweet and gentle. Crisafulli began with General Washington’s March by an anonymous composer. Cornet Voluntary by John Travers followed. We heard the Principal 4 (played an octave lower) for the first time. Crisafulli is also an excellent composer, as we heard in his next selection: Greensleeves (from In Sweet Jubilee—A Suite of Carols for Harpsichord), played on the lovely 8 Stopped Diapason. He next played Adagio by Mozart on the Flute 4′, which alternated with the exquisitely soft Dulciana Treble. We then heard the first Samuel Sebastian Wesley works of the convention: Choral Song—elegant, graceful music—followed by the livelier Prelude and Fugue. I enjoyed his adding the Sesquialtera in the fugue, giving a bit of bite. The hymn was From all that dwell below the skies (Old 100th). A wonderful recital on a beautiful and very historic instrument—Crisafulli did a masterful job demonstrating its many charms!

Late in the afternoon, we arrived at the Old Presbyterian Meeting House in Alexandria, Virginia, for a recital by Samuel Baker, director of the D.C. AGO Foundation. The 1849 one-manual (no pedal) Henry Erben organ stands at the front of the church behind the pulpit. In the Voluntary by William Croft, the 8 Open Diapason alternated with a bright solo combination. Next, Festival Overture from Cutler & Johnson’s American Church Organ Voluntaries (1856). The hymn was As with gladness men of old (Dix), followed by David Dahl’s Variations on the Hymn Tune Dix. We heard a clear 4 flute, flutes 8 and 2, a lovely Dulciana, a jaunty 8 and 4, and a fine Trumpet 8. Stephen Schnurr presented the church with an OHS Historic Citation to encourage the preservation of this very good organ. Baker then went to this church’s other organ, which stood in the rear gallery: a Lively-Fulcher (1997) of two manuals and pedal, with mechanical key action and electric stop action. He performed Gerre Hancock’s beautiful Air (1963)—lovely sounds played with great feeling. The program ended with another hymn: Ye watchers and ye holy ones (Lasst uns Erfreuen).

The evening concert took place at Capitol Hill United Methodist Church. The building is modern in style, tall and narrow with red brick walls. It stands on the site of the birthplace of J. Edgar Hoover—the large “west end” window commemorates that historic fact. The organ, a large and sumptuous 1936 Möller, was built for Covenant-First Presbyterian Church, which later became the National Presbyterian Church. David Storey is the hero in the restoration of this priceless gem, once considered old fashioned. The organ originally had been voiced by Richard O. Whitelegg, who came to Möller from England, where he worked for Harrison & Harrison, August Gern, and Henry Willis. The Atlas states that he voiced the powerful flue stops for the Liverpool Cathedral organ. 

The organ is in the front of the church, with chambers on either side of the chancel and a smaller chamber in the left wall of the nave for the solo division. The walls of the brick nave are windowless at the clerestory level, but a large window in back has the image of the risen Christ in chunks of colored glass embedded in concrete. 

Ken Cowan began his recital with Marche héroïque by Herbert Brewer. A gutsy opening gave way to a majestic and expansive tune; at the close, the melody was played on full organ. The Soul of the Lake, op. 96, no. 1 (Pastels from the Lake of Constance) by Karg-Elert followed—a marvelously impressionistic piece, deliciously played. Next came a thundering reading of Mozart’s Fantasia in F Minor, K. 608. The hymn was Songs of thankfulness and praise (Salzburg). Cowan leads and supports in perfect proportion—ever aware of the text, the music, and the singers. The first half closed with Prelude to Act III, Parsifal, by Wagner in an arrangement by Frederic Archer. The Solo division’s French Horn stop got a workout. Cowan is a master colorist.

The second half opened with Henry Martin’s Prelude and Fugue in B Minor, a piece commissioned by Michael Barone. This was fairly tempestuous music. The fugue began in the pedal and quoted the theme of the prelude. Next was Schumann’s Canon in B Minor, Canon in A-flat Major, and Fugue on B-A-C-H. We heard the variety of reed and foundation tone on this fine organ. I especially enjoyed the A-flat Major, the end of which employed the large Tromba 8 on the Solo, and then pulled back to the lovely Swell strings. 

We then heard Cowan’s transcription of Danse macabre by Saint-Saëns. The whole church seemed to sway back and forth to this wonderful music. Cowan made good use of the percussion on the organ: Chimes, Harp, and Celesta. He closed with Dupré’s Deux Esquisses, op. 41—totally virtuosic and muscular playing. He treated us to an encore: Roulade by Seth Bingham, a perfect bonbon to follow a concert that was like an incredibly rich and hearty meal.

 

Wednesday, June 29

We began the day on Capitol Hill at the towering St. Joseph R.C. Church, whose cornerstone was laid in 1868. It was intended to be used by the German-speaking Catholics of Washington, D.C., and architect Michael Stegmeier used his hometown’s cathedral (Cologne, Germany) as its model. The neo-gothic structure has a very high ceiling painted blue with gold stars. But the real gem for us was the magnificent three-manual, 29-rank Hook & Hastings organ, Opus 1491 from 1891. It has been restored/rebuilt many times, most recently by Bozeman-Gibson, Inc. in 1986. David Storey now tends to this highly regarded instrument.

George Bozeman Jr. entitled his program “Christmas in June.” He began with Reger’s Weihnachten, op. 145, no. 3, which began softly with the strings. The church’s air conditioning, though welcome, was terribly noisy, making much of the music nearly inaudible. The piece incorporated four different carols, ending with Stille Nacht. Bozeman played with a wonderful sense of feeling and sensitivity. Dudley Buck’s attractive Prelude (from The Coming of the King, Cantata for Advent and Christmas) incorporated “Silent Night” and “Adeste fideles.” The hymn was Adeste Fideles, which we sang powerfully in the resonant acoustic of this beautiful church.

Next was a wonderful Allegro by Katherine E. Lucke (1875–1962), which demonstrated the light and agile flute sounds of this fabulous organ. Bozeman closed with his own fine transcription of Four Fleeting Pieces, op. 15 by Clara Schumann. It was a good tour of the organ’s solo stops, and he played all very well; each musical line was beautifully shaped and controlled. We all enjoyed this recital and were quite smitten with this fantastic organ.

The second recital of the morning was at St. Martin of Tours R.C. Church, an attractive building completed in 1939 in the Florentine Renaissance style. A sign was tied between the two pillars on either side of the central door: WELCOME ALL SINNERS. I didn’t know what to make of that, but I certainly felt accommodated. The organ—Möller Opus 6809, three manuals, 22 ranks—stands in the rear gallery and speaks into a most favorable acoustic. There is reason to believe that Möller’s Richard O. Whitelegg worked on this organ. The Atlas states, “Most pipework was old and of unknown origin.” The Clarinet stop was terrific!

Carolyn Lamb Booth opened with a strong reading of Guilmant’s Grand Triumphal Chorus in A Major, op. 47, no. 2. The powerful sounds of this organ filled the space evenly; I liked the Trumpet. Next, Edward Bairstow’s Evening Song, registered perfectly. The hymn was “Christ, be our light.” Organ and organist led it convincingly. After that, the beautiful Elegy by George Thalben-Ball showed the many lovely solo stops and was nicely played. (I noted the Catholic Church in its current state of transition: the confessionals were used to store old kneelers.) The closing piece was Saint-Saëns’ Prelude and Fugue in E-Flat Major, op. 99, no. 3, perfectly suited to this fine organ and organist.

The final stop of the morning was at the lovely St. Gabriel’s R.C. Church in Washington, D.C., to hear its Lewis & Hitchcock, Opus 165 (1930) of two manuals and pedal, 21 ranks. It stands in a divided case on either side of the rear gallery of this English Tudor-style building, whose cornerstone was laid in 1930. We were greeted with the sound of bells—extra points! Upon entering, we encountered the smell of good incense—more extra points! Stephen J. Morris began his program with a hymn, Sing to God! Lift up your voices (Alchester). Robust OHS singing matched the organ very well in that great acoustic! 

Morris’s first selection was Mendelssohn’s War March of the Priests, which showed the strength of this organ’s sound as we enjoyed this cruciform church with its beautiful glass and elegant appointments. Next was Andante ‘Choeur de Voix humaines’, op. 122, no. 7, by Lefébure-Wély. The Great’s very beautiful Gross Flute made bubbly sounds against the Swell’s equally fine Vox Humana. Then Seth Bingham’s Rhythmic Trumpet (from Baroques, op. 41), followed by another character piece, The Squirrel by Powell Weaver—an entertaining bit of whimsey played with good humor. 

Next was Liszt, Introduction and Fugue (after Johann Sebastian Bach, from Cantata 21, Ich hatte viel Bekümmernis), played with broad authority and featuring the organ’s fine plenum. That was followed by a little composition that featured the Oboe: Allegretto in E-flat, op. 17, no. 2 by William Wolstenholme (1865–1931)—cute music. Then came the beautiful Claire de Lune from Karg-Elert’s Trois Impressions, op. 72—lovely music well chosen for organ, space, and audience. Morris played it exquisitely right down to the last ppp on the Aeoline. The recital ended with the March upon a Theme of Handel, op. 15, no. 2, by Guilmant. A fine performance and concert, which demonstrated the organ most admirably.

Following a box lunch, my group made its way to the Armed Forces Retirement Home, founded in 1851. It sits high on a hill overlooking the city of Washington. Abraham Lincoln spent a lot of time there escaping the heat of summer. The rolling grounds are extensive, tranquil, and very green with lots of trees and grass. The organ was in Stanley Hall, a facility built for recreation and entertainment, but now used a chapel. The organ, a two-manual and pedal instrument built by Stevens & Jewett (ca. 1855), is interesting for its 18-note pedalboard. The 16 Double Open Diapason has only 12 pipes. The Atlas states: “From second C the pedals simply repeat the pipes in the bottom octave.” The instrument was acquired through the Organ Clearing House, having come from the former Universalist Church in Mechanics Falls, Maine. David Moore did the restoration. 

Rosalind Mohnsen opened her program with Allegro moderato maestoso by Mendelssohn, which had a fine majestic march feel to it. Then came John Stanley’s Voluntary in A, op. 7, no. 1, Adagio—Allegro. The Adagio was played on the Great Open Diapason—a warm and widely scaled sound. The Allegro used some lovely softer but bright stops on the Swell. Next, Gavotte Pastorale by Frederick Shackley (1868–1937). The Swell alternated with the Great Diapasons, then some of the Swell 8 stops with tremolo—a good piece that showed some of the many colors of this organ. The hymn was, appropriately, Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord (Battle Hymn of the Republic). Mohnsen always chooses hymns and pieces with great care so that they are well suited to the instrument and place at hand. Her next selection was Abraham Lincoln’s Funeral March, op. 7 (1865), “In memory of a Country’s Martyred Father” by William Wolsieffer. Paul Marchesano hand pumped the organ. The piece showed more of the organ’s color, the fine reeds in particular. 

Next came Melodie (Homage to Grieg) by George Elbridge Whiting (1840–1923), which carefully demonstrated more solo stop combinations. Mohnsen closed with Marche militaire by Scotson Clark (1841–1883), a snappy number in which we heard more of the reeds. 

 

We next visited St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, Riverdale, Maryland, which possesses a sweet little Jardine organ, originally built in 1853 as a one manual, and enlarged to two manuals in 1890. After several church “homes”, it had been purchased by OHS member Carolyn Fix, who sold it to St. John’s in 1988, and was rebuilt and enlarged by James Baird. It stands at the rear of this smallish cement block structure. Lawrence Young began with four selections from The Green Mountain Organ Book by Charles Callahan. In Prelude and Fugue we heard the lovely 8 foundation stops. Rondeau used Great 8 and 4 in the A section, while the B sections used the Swell 4 and 2 with shades closed. It ended with Procession, which closed quietly. The next selection was Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in G Major, op. 37, no. 2, which started on the Great 8 and 4 Principals. The fugue was solidly played. Following that, Young played Daniel Pinkham’s Be Thou My Vision: Partita on Slane, a good demonstration piece. We then sang the hymn on which the partita was based. It was all very enjoyable.

 

For the afternoon’s last recital, our buses climbed up the hill to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Crypt Church, to hear the 1987 Schudi organ (two manuals, 23 stops, 25 ranks) built in the style of Gottfried Silbermann. The organ stands in a wide transept to the right of the altar.

Peter Latona, director of music at the shrine, began with Buxtehude’s Praeludium in F-sharp minor, BuxWV 146. In that acoustic, the effect was splendid; clean, clear sound, emanating from the polished tin pipes, filled the space. It was a superb performance, full of life, grace, and vigor. Then the Andante from Bach’s Trio Sonata IV, BWV 528, using an 8 flute on each manual and 16 and 8 flutes in the pedal—a warm and inviting sound. Next, O Gott, du frommer Gott, op. 122, no. 7, by Brahms, showed the rich 8 foundation stops. Then Latona played Joseph Jongen’s Petit Prelude, soloing out the tune on the Swell Schalmey, showing more of the romantic side of this organ. 

Then came a special treat: a series of improvisations creating a Suite on Rendez a Dieu. I. Trompette en taille; II. was the hymn itself, which we all sang; III. was a trio with the Cornet in the left hand; IV. was a Grand jeux complete with a duo in the middle. Very skillful improvisation founded securely in the French Baroque style. Latona made me wish that I lived in Washington, D.C. so I could hear him play every Sunday. 

Following a most tasty buffet dinner at the Pryzbyla Center, Catholic University of America, buses took us to Immaculate Conception Church in Washington, D.C. to hear Bruce Stevens play the evening recital on the church’s 1879 Steer & Turner organ, Opus 131 (two manuals, 25 stops). The church is a large sort of Tudor Gothic with tall windows. The program opened with Festive Prelude on the Chorale ‘Lobe den Herren’ by Niels Gade (1822–1890), which started with long chords and then led into a more “festive” reading of the melody going from manual to manual. That led to the hymn, Praise ye the Lord, the almighty (Lobe den Herren). Our “Let the Amen!” in that acoustic was something to hear!

Stevens then played Partita sopra Aria della Folia da Espagna by Bernardo Pasquini (1637–1710). I was amazed at how well this very 19th-century organ could sound in this music. Next, an Allegro by João de Sousa Carvalho (1745–1798).Then Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543. The fugue was especially fine—masterful and profoundly musical playing! We then heard George Shearing’s setting of Amazing Grace, which was not in the program. Next was Saturnus (from The Planets: Suite of Seven Pieces for Organ) by Bent Lorentzen (b. 1935); lots of repeated chords accompanying a melodic line—wild music! 

Stevens then closed this fine program with Rheinberger’s Sonata No. 9 in B-flat Minor, op. 142. I especially enjoyed the second movement, Romanze, which was a good demonstration of the exquisite flutes on this instrument, as well as the quiet foundation stops. Movement three, Fantasie und Finale–Fuga, showed the clarity of the plenum. This is a very fine organ. The Fantasie contained Buxtehude-like runs, and the very well-conceived Fuga was performed with clear and refined style that comes with a long association with this music. It was a glorious evening!

 

Thursday, June 30

Lorenz Maycher began this day for us on a nearly mint-condition E. M. Skinner, Opus 744, from 1928, at the Church of the Pilgrims (Presbyterian) in Washington, D.C. It has three manuals and about 30 stops and stands in the rear gallery divided on either side of the window. Maycher is a specialist with Skinner organs. He played an entire program of music by Richard Purvis, beginning with Toccata Festiva. It was exciting music and playing—the organ filling the space nicely. The hymn was There’s a wideness in God’s mercy (In Babilone). He then played the popular Melody in Mauve, which sounded wonderful on this beautiful organ. Next was another popular piece, Les Petites Cloches, which featured the chimes and harp. Then, Idyl, with the lovely Flute Celeste II accompanying the Concert Flute, followed by the Vox Humana. 

Repentance was the next piece and showed the softer foundation stops, followed by the strings and then the larger foundation stops; the Tutti came on, but the piece ended with the softest strings. Maycher ended this lovely program with Thanksgiving, which began with the Great Tuba blasting out a fanfare in dialogue with the Swell reeds. A quiet B section, featuring the Clarinet, led us back to the beginning. Wonderful music, brilliantly played on a gorgeous American organ! 

The next stop was Epiphany R.C. Church in Georgetown to enjoy its two-manual, 11-stop Hook & Hastings, Opus 1623. Built in 1894 for a music room in Boston, it eventually found its way to this small and charming church. David M. Storey Inc. restored the organ in 2003. It stands in the rear balcony, its pipes painted in warm yet bright colors. Convention chair Carl Schwartz described this organ brilliantly in the Atlas: “This musical instrument reveals its charms in subtle ways, much like a fine wine unfolding before the senses. As with most Hook & Hastings organs of this modest type, it proves to be far more than the sum of its parts.” 

Kimberly Hess opened with Buxtehude’s Toccata in F Major, BuxWV 157, which worked very well on this 1894 organ. The hymn was I sing the mighty power of God (Mozart). She then played no. X from 23 Préludes liturgiques by Gaston Litaize. We heard the beautiful and careful voicing of the smaller sounds on this lovely organ; each stop is satisfying in every way. Then C.P.E. Bach’s Sonata in D Major, Wq 70/5, which showed refined 8 and 4 sounds in the Allegro di molto. In the Adagio e mesto she used the Swell Stopped Diapason with tremolo to good effect. The Allegro was cheerful and bright with good dialogue between the manuals. Hess ended her fine concert with two selections from Arthur Foote’s Seven Pieces for Organ, op. 71. Cantilena in G featured a solo on the organ’s gorgeous Oboe. The melody was spun out for us with warmth and just the right amount of flexibility. Toccata moved well in the opening A section, coming to a restful B section. It finished big, using the sub and super couplers from the Swell. First-rate playing on a first-rate organ. 

The last stop of the morning was at the sprawling and beautiful Washington Hebrew Congregation, begun in 1856. The present building was completed in 1955. The organ, a large three-manual Aeolian-Skinner, Opus 1285, was installed in 1956. The organ stands in front of the room, although the pipes (and organist) are hidden. There is beautiful tone and balance within the divisions. Two well-known organists have served this congregation: German composer and scholar Herman Berlinski, and B. Michael Parrish, a student of Herbert Howells and George Thalben-Ball. Mr. Parrish began with very soft flute sounds in Sabbath Eve by Robert Starer (1924–2001). Next a piece by one of his teachers: George Thalben-Ball’s Elegy—a great piece that built to a fine roar. Then a piece by another of his teachers: Herbert Howells’s Master Tallis’s Testament, with a beautiful solo sound from the Choir. Next was a very moving In Memoriam by Herman Berlinski (played in memory of Sina G. Berlinski). That was followed by “Rosh Hashana” from Funf Fest-Preludien, op. 37, by Louis Lewandowski, and then the hymn The God of Abraham praise (Yigdal). A very beautiful and meaning-filled program.

We then made our way to Washington’s National City Christian Church, a building designed by John Russell Pope, who also designed the National Archives, the Jefferson Memorial, and the National Gallery—so one can imagine that it is indeed an imposing structure fronted with a huge sweeping staircase. It opened circa 1929. The first organ was by the Skinner Organ Company, Opus 824 (four manuals, 55 ranks). Like many of those grand old E. M. Skinner organs, it was deemed old fashioned by mid-century, and in the 1960s it began to be greatly enlarged by the Möller Company and others until it reached its present size of five manuals and 141 ranks, including a large Antiphonal division in the rear of the church. The main organ stands in the front of this basilica-like structure behind the apse and four huge granite columns—all of this in a building smaller than several of the larger Catholic churches we had visited. It is the third largest organ in the city, but it is in a building smaller, it seemed, than of one of the National Cathedral’s transepts. Perhaps E. M. had the right idea about proportion for the space. This is a very loud organ, and too big for the church.

The legendary and brilliant organist, composer, and teacher John Weaver gave a terrific program. He opened with Bach’s Wir glauben all an einen Gott, S. 680 (Clavierübung Part III). It was a bit of a shock to hear this Möller with its 1975-era mixtures after two and a half days of more subtle mixture sound. Next was Mozart’s Adagio and Allegro in F Minor, K 594. The Adagio was lovely, but the Allegro was a bit over the top with the power and aggressiveness of the registration choices. Weaver played it very well with good attention to detail, but it was just too loud. I found myself wondering if he had trouble judging the level of the sounds as the pipes spoke over the player’s head, sending all the sound into the nave. 

Then Karg-Elert’s Five Chorale Improvisations from opus 65. 1. Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern used the lovely strings and soft foundation stops. 2. O Gott, du frommer Gott used several levels of foundation tone. 3. Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend was quite loud and seemed to demand Christ’s presence among us—brilliant playing with a wild pedal part! 4. Herzlich lieb hab ich dich, o Herr—gorgeous music with a gentle echo after each phrase; we heard the famous Handbells stop on this organ—interesting, but I wasn’t crazy about them. 5. Nun danket alle Gott was the well-known piece often played at weddings. It was another case, however, of over-use of the loud sounds. This organ is simply too big for this room.

Next came one of Weaver’s own compositions, Carillon (2002), which used the Handbell stop. The bells were accompanied by gurgling flutes—very nice music. The hymn was Surely the Lord is in this place to the tune Madison Avenue by Weaver. He then played a piece he wrote based on his hymn tune Meyers Park, following by the singing of the hymn. Weaver closed with his famous Toccata for Organ (1958). It was very exciting, but, with this instrument, it was painfully loud. One longed for the old E. M. Skinner organ that first graced this church.

The bus caravan deposited us at the lovely All Souls Unitarian Church in Washington, D.C. The congregation traces itself back as far as 1815, but the present church, styled after St. Martin in the Fields, London, was built in 1923. The organ was built by Rieger in 1969, a tracker of four manuals, 60 registers, and 96 ranks. It was an important instrument in its time and attracted quite a bit of attention, with a Rückpositiv and an enclosed Brustwerk that has glass shades. It also was the first, it is said, to have computerized combination action with multiple memory levels. To our ears it sounds dated, but in its day I’m sure it was a revelation. There is still much to admire in this instrument. 

Eileen Morris Guenther opened with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in C, BWV 547 (“the 9/8”). I would have liked to hear more articulation in the playing, which seemed rushed with many dropped passing tones. All the drama in that wonderful fugue was lost. Next, Prelude for the Organ in G Major by Fanny Hensel (née Mendelssohn-Bartholdy). The mid-20th century mixtures got in the way of an otherwise good performance. Then Robert Schumann’s Sketch in D-flat, which used the 8 foundations and flutes. Staying in the Schumann family, we heard Clara’s Prelude and Fugue for Organ, op. 16, no. 3, played very well. Two spirituals by Joe Utterback (b. 1944) followed: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (blues for manuals) and Balm in Gilead. I enjoyed her fine performance of them, which showed the pretty soft string sounds. The hymn, a new setting of “A Mighty Fortress” by Emma Lou Diemer (Reformation), was not the easiest thing to sing. This was an instructive recital that showcased the transitional state of organ building midway through the last century.

The evening program was Solemn Evensong and Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, K Street in Washington. D.C. My bus got lost and we barely made it on time. Since all the pews were occupied, I got to sit in a row of chairs set up in front of the front pew—a great view of all the proceedings. The church was founded in 1866, but the present building dates from 1948. It is very traditional, with all the high church trimmings, great acoustics, and a four-manual Schoenstein & Co. organ of 52 voices and 65 ranks. The organ and choir are divided on either side of the chancel, and there is a Tuba Mirabilis mounted on the liturgical west end (the pipes stand vertically). The volunteer choir was superb in every way, led by director of music and organist Robert McCormick, and accompanied by assistant director of music John Bradford Bohl

The pre-service voluntary was Rhein-berger’s Introduction and Passacaglia from Sonata No. 8 in E Minor. It was marvelously played, but I could not tell by whom. The responsory was by Hancock, the preces were by Philip Radcliffe, and the psalms were sung to Anglican chants by Stanford and Thalben-Ball. The organ was perfect for the proper accompaniment of Anglican chant; amazing effects could be created by the swell boxes within swell boxes. Each line of the psalms was carefully prepared by the organist, and the choir sang with proper style and grace. 

The office hymn was All praise to thee, for thou, O King divine (Engelberg). Now, if you have never been to an OHS convention, the hymn singing is amazing. So it was with a certain amusement that I noted a few of the choir members looking out at us with widened eyes as if to say “Who are these people?” We fed each other as congregation, choir, and organ raised the song from our collective hearts to amazing heights—it was an unforgettable moment! The Magnificat and Nunc dimittis came from Evening Service No. 2 in E-flat Major by Charles Wood. It was a powerful sound—McCormick drew astonishing sounds from his forces. After the prayers, they sang the Salve Regina, and then one of my favorite anthems, Te Lucis ante terminum by Henry Balfour Gardiner. That was followed by Benediction. The closing voluntary was a stunning improvisation. It was an unforgettable evening, both musically and spiritually.

 

Friday, July 1

Our day began at the beautiful National Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. with a recital by that church’s organist, William Neil. The church was established in 1947, but has connections dating back to 1780. The present building was opened in 1969. The organ was one of the last Aeolian-Skinner organs, and has been altered many times since then. A Solo division was added in 2010 using several E. M. Skinner ranks. The organ has four manuals and seven divisions. It was featured at the AGO convention in 2010 in a concert by Nathan Laube. I was eager to hear the Skinner Solo division ranks, as they were not playing for that recital. Neil’s fine recital began with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in F Minor, op. 65, no. 1. In the first movement we heard the clear and never overwhelming plenum, with echos on an 8 reed. The beautiful Adagio showed the lovely strings along with several excellent solo stops including the French Horn. The Andante used the Antiphonal 8 and 4 flutes against a reed chorus on the main organ in front. The Antiphonal is at the back of the room, while the main organ is behind a screen on the front wall. The Allegro assai vivace burst forth with extraordinary energy and power. This was one of the most exciting performances I’ve ever heard of this piece. 

In Elgar’s Nimrod (from Enigma Variations, op. 36), the organ’s gorgeous and lush strings were on full display; the clear Clarinet uttered its plaintive cry. The marvelous crescendo began building seamlessly to full organ, then tumbled gently back down to a breathless ppp—it was brilliantly achieved. Next came J. S. Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor. Neil began on quiet flutes. His trills were flawless, and the calm pedal was unruffled by the increasingly busy manual parts. This was a fabulous performance of one of the great monuments of western civilization. My only criticism of this concert was that there was too much loud music. Our ears needed more variety. Stunning though this performance was, we had a long day ahead of us. The hymn was O Lord, You are my God and King (Jerusalem).

 

We made our way through the tree-lined streets of Washington, D.C. to St. Columba’s Episcopal Church in a quiet neighborhood. A handsome church, it looks as though it would be right at home in an English village. Built in 1926–1927, its first organ was a Lewis & Hitchcock that was replaced in 1981 by the present organ, a two-manual, 25-rank Flentrop that the company enlarged in 2003, adding three stops to the pedal. It stands majestically in the liturgical north transept. 

Mark Steinbach began with Philip Glass’s Mad Rush (1981), which worked well on this organ. Next, Bruhns’s Kleine Praeludium in E Minor, played freely and skillfully. This piece provides good opportunity to vary registration—a plus at an OHS convention. There were a few inner rhythmic patterns that were hurried, but he got the big overall shape of this piece quite nicely, and the organ was lovely. Then came Buxtehude’s chorale prelude on Nun komm’ der Heiden Heiland in a beautiful demonstration of the Hoodfwerk Cornet—played with wonderful sensitivity and flexibility. Keeping with that same chorale, the hymn was Savior of the nations, come. The organ held its own leading our vigorous singing—good playing!

My teacher in college, Miriam Clapp Duncan, was Anton Heiller’s second American student. So I was eager to hear the next piece, Nun Komm’ der Heiden Heiland—Eight Variations (1972), by Anton Heiller. (Steinbach has recorded a forthcoming CD of the music of Anton Heiller’s music.) He used the full range of this organ. I especially liked the Borstwerk 4 Roerfluit, which seemed to chirp. Steinbach closed with more Philip Glass: Satyagraha, Act III, Conclusion (1980). While it was interesting to hear, for me, at least, it soon wore out its welcome. He did build a fine crescendo. This is a very good organ, and Steinbach gave an excellent tour of it. 

The next organ was a major historic treat: a nearly intact three-manual Henry Erben organ from 1850—very rare, and very exciting for us OHS’ers. This was at Trinity United Methodist Church in McLean, Virginia. The congregation can trace its beginnings back to 1820. They built their present Georgian-style church in 1961. The organ was originally built for Monumental Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia. In 1926 they replaced it with a Skinner, keeping the Erben façade, which was silenced. The Erben pipes went to another church. James Baird managed to put the Erben back together between 1975 and 1997. It now stands rather proudly in the front of this sanctuary. Nearly all the pipework has been restored, with three rare Erben reed stops. The organ has a painted white case with gold trim. There are dentils adorning the tops of the towers. The capitals at the tops of the towers have carved flowers painted colorfully. The church created needlepoint kneelers using the case designs. Convention chair Carl Schwartz, in introducing the concert, called the organ “a national treasure.” 

Before the recital began, we had the annual meeting, which included the introduction of the four E. Power Biggs Fellows to this convention. The Fellows get an all-expense-paid trip to the convention. Many eventually become performers at subsequent conventions and go on to great success in the organ world. We also had a delightful preview of next summer’s convention in Chicago.

Kevin Birch began his program with Concerto in G Major, BWV 592 (after Ernst) by J. S. Bach. In the Allegro he used the Great 8 4 2 in alternation with the Swell. The second movement, Grave, used flutes 8 with tremolo, a beautiful sound. The Presto was played with secure rhythm and nicely shaped phrases. Next, William Boyce’s Voluntary I in D. The Larghetto featured the very attractive 8 Open Diapason; the Vivace featured the delicious Great Trumpet; I loved that sound—full bodied and true. Next, Muffat’s Aria sub elevazione (aria, three variations, aria), which worked quite well on this organ. Then, Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 1 in F, op. 65. I especially enjoyed the fourth movement, when he added the thrilling 16 Trombone in the Pedal. It was all good, solid playing on a really fine and certainly historic instrument! 

The hymn was Ye servants of God (Hanover). Guilmant’s Prière et Berceuse followed the hymn, beginning on a very quiet string. The Berceuse began with a solo on the Oboe. It was a gorgeous call from the past that made one long for the many organs that are lost. Thanks be that this one has come down to us virtually intact. The piece ended with the sweet sound of the Swell Dulciana and tremolo. Birch ended this marvelous recital with Grand Choeur in G Major by Théodore Solomon. After a sturdy beginning, a fugue started, using 8 foundations and the Oboe, sounding very French. The Mixture came on with full organ, bringing the piece to an end—very good playing on a remarkably versatile organ!

And so we came to the final evening recital of the convention. Following a delicious meal at the American Indian Museum, we walked to St. Dominic’s R.C. Church, just a few blocks off the National Mall. It is a large gray granite church completed in 1875. It has seen several fires in its history. The church’s Hilborne Roosevelt Opus 290 dates from 1885: three manuals and 47 ranks. Originally a tracker, after various fires and rebuilds it is now on electro-pneumatic action. It enjoys a fantastic acoustic, is just the right size for the building, and stands in the rear gallery. 

Thomas Murray began with Rheinberger’s Sonata in G, op. 88, no. 3. The first part featured the fine plenum. Later we heard the beautiful Cornopean on the Swell. The closing movement was all fire and bravura. Then, Bossi’s Ave Maria, showing the lovely strings and flutes with tremolo, and Bossi’s Divertimento en forma de Giga—immaculate playing. Next, Guilmant’s Communion on Ecce panis angelorum on quiet 8 and 4 flutes, then the soft 8 foundations. Guilmant’s Caprice in B-flat was a nice contrasting bit of whimsey, with chords tossed out into the great nave of this church—a charming sense of fun. Then, Grand Choeur on “Benedicamus Domino” (1934) by Guy Weitz. The Great and Swell reeds called back and forth. A fugue followed on the very good plenum—all very lively and yet grand. The hymn was There’s a wideness in God’s mercy (Blaenwern). 

Following intermission, Murray played Alfred Hollins’s Concert Overture in C Minor (1899). Bold, strong, and large chords were flung through the nave. The Swell reeds had a solo or two before returning to the Great. The piece gave voice to several solo stops and a fugue before returning to the opening material. Liszt’s Epilogue (from Années de Pèlerinage, Suisse) worked very well on the organ. Murray closed with Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3, which made one want to get up and dance. It was a brilliant performance! 

 

Saturday, July 2

This was an “extra” day, with just three recitals. About half the convention attendees chose to go home following the Friday night recital. A few elected to stay, wanting to hear the Pomplitz organ that was on the schedule. However, the buses confounded our best intentions. The company only sent one bus, but we needed two. We all lined up in the usual manner behind the hotel. The first ones in line got on that bus. The rest of us waited for nearly two hours. It really was frustrating. But finally one came after several frantic phone calls. We missed the recital at St. Patrick’s in the City R.C. Church with its large three-manual 1994 Lively-Fulcher organ built in a French manner. The recitalist was Ronald Stolk. My apologies to all concerned that I was unable to review that recital. 

We did get to hear the August Pomplitz organ, No. 140, built in 1869 for Grace Episcopal Church in Alexandria. The organ was believed to have come to St. Vincent de Paul R.C. Church in Washington, D.C. about 1905—two manuals, 16 ranks with mechanical key and stop action. Carl Schwartz called it “a lovely instrument and a survivor.” It stands in the rear gallery of this little church. Philip T.D. Cooper started with Voluntary VII in G Major (from Ten Organ Voluntaries, op. 6) by John Stanley. Next, Flute Piece in F by William Hine. The flutes on this organ possess a rare beauty. Cooper handled the sounds with deftness and clarity. In Voluntary in A Minor by Lucien H. Southard (1827–1881), we heard the foundation stops, which ended in a fine fugal section.

Cooper’s own Fuga I tertii tone was a hit with the audience. The hymn was Jerusalem, my happy home, sung to Cooper’s tune, Kenny Dawson’s Mighty Hymn. We then heard this organ’s elegant strings in Tantum Ergo by John Henry Wilcox. The program closed with Postlude in A Major by George J. Webb.

The final concert of the convention was at St. Mary Mother of God R.C. Church in Washington, D.C., founded in 1845 for the German-speaking Catholics. The organ, which is in the rear balcony, is George S. Hutchings’ Opus 239 from 1891: two manuals, 27 ranks; it is nearly intact with its original tracker action. Timothy Edward Smith began with Bonnet’s Fantasy on Two Noels. A hymn followed: Sing of Mary, pure and holy (Raquel). Next, two selections from Seth Bingham’s Sixteen Carol Canons in Free Style. In Gabriel’s Salutation, which had  six canons, he demonstrated all manner of sounds small and great. Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabelle had three canons. These were great organ demonstration pieces, with many refined colors.

Next was Myron Roberts’ Improvisation on God Rest You Merry. I loved the sweet little 8 Dolcissimo stop on the Great. Then, Harvey Gaul’s The Christmas Pipes of County Clare. The flutes had their day in this charming and wonderful music. Get this music—your congregation will love you! A second hymn followed: Hark! the herald angels sing (Mendelssohn), then Balbastre’s Joseph is a good husband. The fine reeds on this organ were well displayed making a mighty Grands Jeux. The final piece, and the finale to the convention, was Fantasy on Two English Carols. The First Noel was nicely articulated. Good King Wenceslaus was heard on the Swell reeds, and then on the soft flues and flutes. The First Noel returned triumphantly! A grand conclusion to a grand convention.

This was another outstanding OHS convention. Carl Schwartz and his committee are all to be congratulated for an exceptional effort. The organs were in great shape, the venues were spectacular, the scholarship we saw in the Atlas, the Convention Handbook, and the Hymn Book evidenced their thoroughness and affection for the organs of the communities in which they are so blessed to live. And, of course, the beauty of our nation’s capital seemed to grace and welcome us at every turn. 

The 2012 OHS national convention takes place July 9–13 in Chicago. For information: www.organsociety.org.

 

In the wind . . .

John Bishop

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

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A matter of manners

In the first days of the twentieth century my great-grandfather and his seven brothers ran a large and successful silk business, importing thread from China and weaving fabric. There was a sprawling mill complex in Manchester, Connecticut bearing the family name that included a company assembly hall, which is still home to a lovely organ by E. & G. G. Hook. Glad to know my forebears had good taste in pipe organs. Eight grand houses shared an expanse of lawn, one of which was still my great-grandmother’s home when I was growing up. Each year at Columbus Day we drove to Manchester for a visit, and I remember exploring that huge house with its endless corridors, seemingly dozens of bedrooms, and a third-floor playroom complete with a swing hung from the ceiling.

Hanging in our guest bathroom we have reproductions of flowery advertisements from the company, touting showrooms in Manhattan, and depicting tidy maids helping their mistresses with their frocks. My great-grandmother would have hated Downton Abbey.

Lunch at that house was a formal affair with fancy china, and plenty of forks, knives, and spoons, and we were coached in their proper use. After my great-grandmother died, the immense brass candlesticks from her table were converted into lamps, one of which lights my desk as I write today.  

My grandfather and father were both Episcopal priests, which had the trickle-down effect that my siblings and I were brought up accustomed to a succession of fancy and formal dinners, endless stacks of elegant china, stemware, and utensils having found their way through the generations to our adolescent dinner table. Now that my parents are living in a retirement community and their household has been downsized a couple times, we have realized that our children and the subsequent generations will have little to do with all that finery. Beautiful as it is, the stuff is a nuisance because the gold bands on the plates mean they can’t go in the dishwasher.

These remaining traces of formality in family life combined with the community’s expectation of the rector’s family (ever wonder how Preachers’ Kids got such a reputation?) mean that we were brought up to know good manners. We knew which fork to use for salad, and how to set the table with the dessert forks and spoons in the proper place, and yes, there were always dessert forks and spoons. My father carved the meat at the head of the table, passing plates to my mother at the foot, ensuring that the food was cold before anyone could take a bite. The most senior female guest was seated to Dad’s right, male to Mom’s right. It was usually obvious who those people were, but I bet there was more than one feather ruffled when someone who considered herself to be senior was seated in the middle of the table. When we ate at my grandparents’ table, the carving went a little better. Poppy had been a surgeon before entering the priesthood and the turkey seemed to fall apart into appropriate serving sizes the moment he lifted his oft-honed scalpel of a carving knife!

Today when we entertain, Wendy sets a beautiful table, but sometimes I can’t help speaking up to protect the memory of that grand succession of mothers who brought me up to know which way the dessert fork should face. What is it they say, choose your battles?

I’ve read many novels about life in the British Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, and chuckle because so many of the dinner-table rituals I grew up with are present at the tables of the Captain while at sea, battles or no battles. And British officers serving in distant outposts of the empire were never without their silver and table finery, their sherry and port wine, a custom exquisitely lampooned by the British comedy troupe Monty Python. We can deduce that the formalization of dining rituals set the stage for freer exchange of ideas in conversation.

When you get right down to it, good manners in just about any situation are a statement of respect for the occasion and the people participating in it.

§

A couple months ago, I wrote of my fascination with the fast-growing world of cell-phone Apps. Those snazzy little bits of software that are being created to simplify our lives at ninety-nine cents a pop seem like gifts from God because they drop from heaven with no effort at all, with the potential of enlightening us like mega-bytes of holy grail. But in fact, when used without consideration, our cell phones and all they contain are playing a large role in the decay of social order. How’s that for sounding like an old, um, codger?

But I don’t think I’m being sanctimonious. How many of us have stood tapping our feet in a long line at the bank while the guy at the teller window can’t finish his transaction because he’s on the phone? How many of us have traveled to attend a meeting that was continually interrupted by its leader answering his phone or e-mails while we wait? (“Sorry, I’ve been waiting for this call.”) And how many of us have tried to pass someone on a city sidewalk who’s weaving from side to side and walking at a snail’s pace with a phone glued to her ear, making herself into a double-wide with her gesticulations?

You’re sitting in a coffee shop enjoying your non-fat-triple-shot-soy-praline-half-caff beverage. Nice, but there are two people in the shop with their ties loosened and sleeves rolled halfway up their cubits, laptops open, talking in full voices on the phone. One is fighting with his wife; the other is clearly the most brilliant and insightful businessperson in town. So much for reading the paper—on my iPad.

 

Under the pews

Last week I got together with a friend in New York. We had lunch in a nice little French café, then walked to his church to see the organ. It’s a large old church with a fascinating nineteenth-century organ, but what really caught my eye was on the literature table in the narthex—a stack of photocopied sheets with the title “Church Etiquette Page.” It starts out defining Christ’s presence in the Tabernacle, suggesting that it’s appropriate to bow or genuflect when walking past, and continues with a statement: Please observe the following courtesies when you are visiting the church.

Silence is the norm while in church. Conversation is to be confined to the narthex or the courtyard. Since the acoustics in the church are very fine, any necessary talking needs to be at a whisper.

Proper attire is expected. Since this is relative to taste and fashion, you are expected to use your good judgment.

Food and beverages have no place in a church. However it is permitted in the narthex and courtyard. The use of alcohol and tobacco is prohibited on church premises. This is not the O.K. Corral.

Gum is not to be chewed in church.*

Running is inappropriate. Parents or caretakers need to stay close to their children. Adults mustn’t run either, unless they’re chasing after a child.

Reading newspapers, using cell phones, applying cosmetics, changing clothes (yes, it’s happened) and other similar activities do not have a place in church.

Refuse should not be left in the pews or the floor around you.

Dogs are allowed to enter the church as long as they observe silence and know the difference between a holy water font and a fire hydrant. After all, they can be better behaved than some humans.

Smoking is simply not to occur anywhere on church property.

*Please use this paper to discard your gum rather than the underside of a pew.

How did that priest know I’ve been sticking gum under the pew? I thought I was getting away with it. But how refreshing to see this simple expression expecting respect. By setting out a code of decorum with a twinkle in his eye, he has taken the pressure off anyone who didn’t know how to behave in church, while giving a nudge to those who know perfectly well but seem to have forgotten. I’ve heard many stories from colleagues who, sitting in princely splendor at their console in the chancel, look out across a congregation full of Tetris, Words-With-Friends, e-mails, and texting. One told me how a man answered a phone call during worship, then walked around behind a pillar, thinking that would keep his fellow worshippers from hearing him. (“Hey Mister, churches have acoustics!”)  

One of my Words-With-Friends friends is organist of a church in Hawaii. Last week she shared a YouTube video on the subject of cell phones in church, saying that she used to play for the church in the video. Here’s the link—it’s worth a look: www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2_c81Nnsc0.

But organists, don’t think you’re exempt from this rant. At 10:45 on a Sunday morning I receive a text from an organist, “cn u fx ded note tmrw?” Hey, you’re still sitting on the organ bench, sermon probably halfway through. Put your phone away. From the pews fifty feet away congregants can see that pale glow reflected on your face. We know it’s not the console indicator lights, and it’s certainly no halo. Let’s not txt our friends from the organ bench during worship. I know it happens a lot.

 

Who is it?

On January 10, 2012, music director Alan Gilbert was leading the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in a performance of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony in Lincoln Center’s Avery Fisher Hall. According to an indignant blogger:

 

It was in the fourth movement. (Funny how these disturbances never happen in fortissimo passages.) After the last climax, as the movement begins to wind down, toward that sublime last page of the score where music and silence are almost indistinguishable. In other words, just about the worst possible moment. (After a quick check of my Dover score, I think it was about 13 bars before the last Adagissimo.)

 

You guessed it. A cell phone rang. The iPhone Marimba. In the front row. In Avery Fisher Hall. It kept ringing. It rang and rang.  

Someone in the audience yelled, “Thousand dollar fine.”

The first sentence of reviewer Daniel Wakin’s article in the January 12 edition of the New York Times read, “They were baying for blood in the usually polite precincts of Avery Fisher Hall.”
Maestro Gilbert stopped the performance, turned to face the audience, located the offender and stood staring at him. An article in the January 11th issue of
(the online version of the famous British newspaper) added, “During a pause of several minutes, the music director asked ‘Are you finished?’ When the culprit didn’t reply he said: ‘Fine, we’ll wait.’” Holy cow! The incident was covered and commented on by newspapers around the world. Google “Alan Gilbert cell phone” and you’ll get a flood of newspaper stories.

But wait, there’s more. On January 7, the Dayton (Ohio) Philharmonic Orchestra was starting its Saturday evening concert with Debussy’s Prelude to “The Afternoon of a Faun” when a baby started to cry. It cried and cried. The Dayton Daily News reported:

 

The youngster had been wailing for quite some time when [conductor] Gittleman stopped the music, turned to the audience, and asked that the child be removed. Some audience members applauded . . . . Gittleman said he’s had to stop concerts due to cell phones in the past, but this was the first time a child had caused enough commotion to require him to stop and begin a piece again. “The very first noise that the baby made was just as the flute was beginning her solo,” he says. “The piece begins with a big, long, famous, hard, flute solo and my job at the beginning of that piece is to make the flute as comfortable as possible.”

The story continued:

 

Many who attended the concert as well as those who heard about the incident felt that it was handled in the best possible way.

Jim and Ellen Ratti of Middletown are season DPO subscribers who witnessed ‘the whole affair.’ “The baby cried several times, not just once, and due to the outstanding acoustics in the Schuster, the sound carried throughout the concert hall,” Jim says, adding the cries were very loud, disruptive and distracting.

“I’m sure that some will say that Maestro Gittleman was inconsiderate and rude for calling attention to the offending parent(s),” he adds. “My reply to those criticisms would be that it’s inconsiderate and rude to bring a child of that age to an event which holds no interest for him or her. It is also inconsiderate and rude to disrupt the listening pleasure of everyone else in the concert hall, or to expect that such disruption would be excused.”

My grandmother would have agreed. But had she been the conductor in either of these situations, she wouldn’t have had to say a word. Just one look. Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham, had nothing on her. You might as well be using the wrong fork.

§

Anyone who knows me might call me a hypocrite for ranting about cell phones. To borrow a phrase from a colleague-friend, I hold the thing “like a crack pipe,” checking e-mails constantly, texting friends with quick thoughts and observations, keeping up with phone messages. I use it to check the weather, keep my calendar and contacts, look up maps and directions, choose restaurants, make travel reservations, and even sometimes, to the horror of our daughter, Google to find the answers that end dinner-time arguments. (Yes, Roger Maris did hit his 61st home run in the 161st game of the 1961 season. Nice symmetry.)

I think the cell phone has made possible great flexibility for people during the working day. And well used, it’s a vehicle for good manners. There’s no excuse for not calling to say you’re on your way, but you’ll be a few minutes late. But we need to create a new social order to deal with them. Here are a few general rules I propose to the social court:

• Don’t put a phone ahead of a personal, face-to-face conversation.

• Don’t let your phone call impede or delay someone else.

• Don’t let your phone diminish anyone else’s enjoyment of anything.

• Don’t assume that it’s okay with everyone around you to be forced to listen to your conversation.

Does anyone out there in Diapason land want to add to my list?

A few weeks ago a bad thing happened to my iPhone while crossing Broadway in lower Manhattan. Luckily, there was an AT&T store right there and twenty minutes later I was upgraded to the iPhone 4S. For those not familiar with the jargon, this is the new model which includes Siri, a voice-recognition program that allows you to speak to your phone, asking it to place a call, send a text message, or pretty much anything else, except to play an audio book. I asked the polite female computer-generated voice to play one of the books in my audio library. She replied, “I’m not able to do that.” I said, “You can’t play an audio book?” “I’m not able to do that.” “What good are you?” “Now, now…” “I’m sorry.” “That’s OK.”  

Next, I have no idea what got into me: “You’re cute.” Her reply: “You say that to all the virtual assistants.”

In the wind . . .

John Bishop

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

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Of the people, by the people, for the people . . . 

 

. . . that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

These words from Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address are in tribute to those killed during the pivotal Battle of Gettysburg of the American Civil War. In the eulogy he delivered after Lincoln’s assassination, Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner said, “The world noticed at once what he said, and will never cease to remember it. The battle itself was less important than the speech.” Sumner’s other claim to fame is as namesake of the Sumner Tunnel that connects downtown Boston to Logan Airport by passing under Boston Harbor.

Perhaps it’s rare for words like these to appear in the pages of a trade journal, and in today’s volatile political climate I know very well that I tread on dangerous ground. The relationship between politics and religion is strong and prevalent, though the United States Constitution specifically calls for the two to be separate. The differences in worship styles between Northeastern Anglicans and Southeastern Evangelicals are as vast as the wide range of styles found in the world of the pipe organ.

Like it or not, the pipe organ has been associated primarily with the church for some five hundred years. It’s hard to imagine what the pipe organ would be today were it not for the influence of the church. From the late Renaissance to the modern day, most of the music written for the organ comes from the church, and by extension, most of the organ music we might consider secular couldn’t have happened had the church not provided us with the parade of instruments that is our history. One might argue that the organ symphonies of Vierne or Widor are not ecclesiastical music, but without the Cavaillé-Coll organs in the grand churches of St. Sulpice and Notre Dame in Paris, I doubt those two masters would have gotten it together to write that music.

Some twenty years ago my friend and colleague, the widely respected organ historian Barbara Owen, commented, “We have to get the organ out of the church.” I was dumbfounded—I guess because I found I was too dumb to understand what she meant. How could the organ possibly survive without the church? It was the comment of another friend and colleague, Steven Dieck, President of C.B. Fisk, Inc., that enlightened me a little. To paraphrase Steve’s comment, large portions of modern society might never have the chance to hear a pipe organ—those people who would never be caught dead in church, or more to the point, those who would only be caught dead in church! After all, some people never go into a church unless they’re in a coffin.

The organs we find in concert halls, university auditoriums, and increasingly rarely, in municipal auditoriums are available to the general public without risk of exposure to the perceived perils of organized worship, and it’s the municipal organ that is of the people, by the people, and for the people.

The first American municipal organ appeared in 1864 when E. & G. G. Hook built a four-manual organ with 64 stops for Mechanics Hall in Worcester, Massachusetts. That organ was restored by the Noack Organ Company in 1982 and is still very much in use. Records show that Roosevelt built an organ with 129 stops for the Chicago Auditorium in 1889, the year that Benjamin Harrison was inaugurated as America’s twenty-third president, and three years after the dedication of the Statue of Liberty. I don’t know how many organs that large had been built before 1889—but it sure must have stood out as one of the great cultural icons of its day. And with what I know about the organs built by Hilborne Roosevelt, it must have been a knockout.

In 1882, Thomas Edison proved the practicality of the commercial and residential use of electricity by installing electric lighting in the home of J. P. Morgan at the corner of Madison Avenue and 36th Street in New York. When the Roosevelt organ was built, the development of electrical applications was still in its infancy—the organ had tracker action. That’s a huge organ. The stoplist shows that there were indicators for low, medium, and high wind pressures—imagine the army of people needed to pump that organ.

In 1921 E. M. Skinner built a five-manual instrument with 150 stops for the new 13,000-seat Municipal Auditorium in Cleveland. Those were the days before radio and recordings, and it was expensive to hear the few great symphony orchestras across the country, so the municipal organ was the only way for many to hear live performances of great music. Accounts of the introduction of that organ give us a glimpse into the popularity of the public pipe organ. Following the dedication of the organ, Harold MacDowell, the Cleveland City Architect wrote: 

 

Despite the oppressive heat, the crowd which had been collecting since noon soon exceeded the capacity of the mammoth hall and long before the time set for the inaugural recital all seats were filled and more than 5000 men, women, and children were crowding the corridors of the colossal structure. The police which were out in large numbers were at first able to hold the crowd into a semblance of order, but soon gave up in despair as the eager mob swept all before it.1

 

That means there were at least 18,000 people in attendance. A riot before an organ recital? Wow!

It wasn’t only big cities that had municipal organs. Melrose, Massachusetts is about seven miles north of Boston. Today there are around 29,000 residents. In 1919 when the Austin Organ Company installed the 78-stop organ in Soldiers and Sailors Hall, just over 18,000 people lived in Melrose. As we learned in Cleveland, that’s just enough to make an audience.

If you’re interested in reading more about this heritage, visit the website www.municipalorgans.net, where you’ll find a chronological list of American Municipal Pipe Organs. You can click your way further in to find stoplists and histories of most of the instruments. Thanks to the creators of that website for making so much information available. I’m sure that was a labor of love!

Two cities in the United States still have important secular organs with seated municipal organists: San Diego, California and Portland, Maine. San Diego is home to the Spreckels Organ, housed in the Spreckels Organ Pavilion at Balboa Park. It’s one of the world’s largest outdoor organs, and though it must compete with the flight paths of San Diego International Airport, it remains a popular attraction. Municipal Organist Carol Williams and visiting artists offer weekly concerts. Like so many other cities, San Diego has been struggling to manage a deficit budget, and after much well-reported arguing, the City Council voted in 2011 to renew Williams’ contract for ten years, continuing the city’s sizable contribution to her salary. You can read an article about the city’s decision in the San Diego Union Times at https://www.utsandiego.com/news/2011/aug/02/civic-organist-contract-renewed/?ap. The article cites that the city has a $40,000,000 deficit—but they approved funding of $286,000 for a ten-year contract for Williams. Compare that to Alex Rodriguez (aka A-Rod) of the New York Yankees who was paid $33,000,000 in 2009. That’s more than $203,000 per game, which is close to ten years for Carol Williams. According to www.baseball-reference.com, A-Rod’s aggregate salary as a baseball player is $296,416,252. That’s enough money for a thousand municipal organists for ten years. Play ball!

As the weather in Portland, Maine is nothing like that of San Diego, Portland’s Kotzschmar Organ is indoors, located in Merrill Auditorium of City Hall. Housed in an elegant case at the rear of the stage, and sporting a five-manual drawknob console, this grand instrument is the pride of its city. And while San Diego has just over 3,000,000 residents, the entire State of Maine has about 1,300,000 people, 64,000 of whom live in Portland, the largest city in the state. To put the scale of the state in closer perspective, the capital city of Augusta has 18,500 residents! 

 

The institution that was Curtis

Cyrus H. K. Curtis grew up in Portland, Maine. His father Cyrus Libby Curtis was an interior decorator and amateur musician who met the struggling immigrant musician Hermann Kotzschmar in Boston, and offered to help him establish himself in Portland. Kotzschmar became conductor and pianist for the Union Street Theatre Orchestra, in which Curtis played the trombone, and organist and choirmaster of the First Parish Church (Unitarian) where Curtis sang in the choir. Can you detect a pattern? As Kotzschmar was gaining traction in Portland, he lived with the Curtis family, and Cyrus Libby Curtis gave his son the name of his favorite musician, hence the initials H.K.

In the ensuing years, Kotzschmar founded choral societies and orchestras, performed as conductor, organist, and pianist in countless concerts, and taught a generation of the city’s musicians.

Meanwhile, Cyrus H. K. Curtis really made something of himself. He founded the Curtis Publishing Company in 1891 and subsequently launched the Saturday Evening Post and the Ladies’ Home Journal. Later he founded Curtis-Martin Newspapers, Inc., whose properties included the Philadelphia Inquirer and the New York Evening Post. Cyrus
H. K. Curtis made a lot of money, and he carried the musical influence of Hermann Kotzschmar all his life. He purchased three pipe organs for his home in Wyncote, Pennsylvania (Aeolian, Opus 784, 943, and 1374); he donated a 160-stop Austin organ to the University of Pennsylvania where it still stands, recently renovated, in Irvine Auditorium. He gave huge amounts of money to the Philadelphia Orchestra, and his daughter Mary Louise Curtis Bok founded the Curtis Institute of Music, named in honor of her father. Hers was a particularly classy honor as the Curtis Institute was founded nine years before her father’s death!

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At about 2:00 in the morning on January 24, 1908, a fire started in the city electrician’s office in Portland’s City Hall, ironically caused by an electrical short-circuit in the Gamewell Fire Alarm System that was housed in the office (pesky new-fangled contraptions). Because the alarm system was the first thing to go, the fire quickly went out of control and City Hall was destroyed. Coincidentally, Hermann Kotzschmar died on April 15, 1908. After plenty of discussion, the remains of the building were razed and the cornerstone for the new City Hall was laid on October 6, 1909, and on January 10, 1911, former Mayor Adam Leighton announced that Portland native Cyrus Curtis was donating a pipe organ to be installed in Merrill Auditorium of the new City Hall in memory of Portland’s most prominent musician.

The new City Hall was dedicated on August 22, 1912. Municipal Organist Will C. Macfarlane was at the organ. The program included Macfarlane’s performance of Boëllmann’s Suite Gothique, a report from the city building committee (Adam Leighton, chairman), presentation of keys to the building by Owen Brainard of the architecture firm Carrere and Hastings (designers of the New York Public Library and the House and Senate Office Buildings in Washington, D.C.), presentation of the organ by Cyrus Curtis, unveiling of the Hermann Kotzschmar bust by his widow Mary, and acceptance of the whole shebang by Mayor Oakley Curtis (no relation). Macfarlane also played his own compositions Evening Bells and Cradle Song, and a transcription of Kotzschmar’s Te Deum in F. Judge Joseph Symonds gave an oration, and representing the Catholic Bishop of Portland, Rev. Martin A. Clary gave the prayer and benediction. Must have been a lovely afternoon.2

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In January of 2007, the FOKO board asked the organ committee to investigate the possibility of some additions and major repairs to the organ. Specialists were called in to assess the questions and replied that the general condition of the organ was poor enough to make the work feasible. FOKO responded by inviting a group of widely respected experts to participate in a public symposium in August 2007 to discuss the organ in detail and develop recommendations for the future of the instrument. The participants were Joe Dzeda, Nick Thompson-Allen, Jonathan Ambrosino, Walt Strony, Curt Mangel, Peter Conte, and Tom Murray. Craig Whitney of the New York Times served as scribe and followed the event with a written report. As chair of the organ committee, I was moderator of the event. After years of study, the Friends of the Kotzschmar Organ and the City of Portland announced plans for the renovation of the organ. In September 2011, Portland’s City Council approved a grant of $1.25 million for the project. Just before the Council meeting, Mayor Nicolas Mavodone, City Manager Mark Rees, and two members of the City Council joined me on the stage of Merrill Auditorium for a tour of the organ. The mayor marveled at the thousands of pipes, took a slew of photos with his cell phone, and commented that he had stood on the stage dozens of times presiding over civic events without having any idea what was behind the organ case. He repeated those comments for the City Council and the members approved the funding unanimously. Watching both elected and appointed city officials discuss and approve the motion to care for that organ at such a meaningful level was a great experience for an organbuilder.   

FOKO is raising the balance to fund not only the organ’s renovation but to endow the positions of Municipal Organist and Organ Curator, and to extend the organization’s ambitious and effective education programs, bringing Maine’s schoolchildren together with the King of Instruments.

The renovation of the organ will be accomplished by Foley-Baker, Inc., of Tolland, Connecticut. Having completed similar projects on the organs of the First Church of Christ, Scientist in Boston (The Mother Church), Symphony Hall in Boston, and the Aeolian organ in the Chapel of Duke University, Mike Foley and the staff of FBI bring vast experience to this project.

To commemorate the centennial, FOKO will present a Centennial Festival of concerts and masterclasses starting on Friday, August 17, 2012, and culminating with a grand Kotzschmar Centennial Concert on the actual anniversary, Wednesday, August 22. Participating artists and presenters include Tom Trenney, Walt Strony, Mike Foley, Dave Wickerham, Frederick Hohman, Michael Barone, Thomas Heywood, Peter Conte, John Weaver, Felix Hell, John Bishop, and Ray Cornils.  

The festival will be housed at Portland’s Holiday Inn By the Bay. Details will be announced soon. Like a hawk, you should watch the website of the Friends of the Kotzschmar Organ, www.foko.org. Summer in Maine is as good as it gets, the Kotzschmar Organ is a grand instrument, soon to be prepared for its second century. And you’ll never have a better chance to gather with such a list of luminaries in such an intimate city. Hope to see you there.

 

Cover feature

Létourneau Pipe Organs worked closely with the cathedral’s architect, Craig Hartman of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, to develop the organ’s visual design, through a process of discussion, collaboration, and at times, mutual compromise

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Létourneau Pipe Organs, 

Saint-Hyacinthe, Quebec, Canada

Opus 118 (2010)

The Cathedral of Christ the Light, Oakland, California

 

From the director of music and 

organist

In July 2009 I was appointed director of music and organist for the Cathedral of Christ the Light, well after the cathedral was built and the organbuilder had been selected. Unlike similar organ projects, I could not take credit for the new instrument. However, even in the early stages of the design of the cathedral, the pipe organ formed an integral part of the building’s design. The cathedral’s architect, Craig Hartman, was extensively involved in the design of the pipe façades and the organ console, so that they complement the overall design of the cathedral.

At the time when it became clear that Oakland would be home to a great cathedral, Daniel Whalen and his wife, Katharine Conroy Whalen, thought of her mother, Gerry Conroy. The Whalens soon made the decision to give a custom-made pipe organ in her memory and, as such, all funding for the Conroy Memorial Organ came from the gift of Daniel and Katherine Conroy Whalen.

The organ committee did extensive research and visited several instruments by several different builders before the decision was made to commission an instrument from Létourneau. Because of the layout of the cathedral, it was apparent from the project’s inception that a tracker instrument was impossible and that electric action would be necessary. The organ needed to serve both as a liturgical instrument and as a concert instrument. It needed to be capable of accompanying choral repertoire and congregational singing, providing processional fanfares, and playing a variety of organ literature in both liturgical and concert settings.

The instrument has been a great success, serving the Diocese of Oakland and the cathedral parish well in liturgical settings, as well as making the cathedral a sought-after venue for organ and choir concerts.

—Dr. Rudy de Vos

 

From the builder

Létourneau pipe organs are custom-built for their surroundings, and we strive for a good fit, both architecturally and tonally. From time to time, we are privileged to work in some exceptional surroundings. We knew this to be the case from our first contact with the Cathedral of Christ the Light in the spring of 2006. Though the cathedral existed only as a design on paper at that time, the clarity of the worship space’s towering architecture was as striking as the use of sunlight filtering through the ceiling’s central oculus, and the hundreds of wooden louvers making up the sides of the worship space.

Also striking were the locations set aside for a pipe organ in the architectural plans. Large canopies on either side of the cathedral’s central omega window were designed to display a significant instrument, while a discreet organ chamber was provided behind the seating area for the cathedral choir. The lateral and vertical distances between these three locations presented a number of intriguing possibilities but also a number of challenges.

Having agreed to work closely with the cathedral’s architect, Craig Hartman of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, we developed the organ’s visual design through a process of discussion, collaboration, and at times, mutual compromise. From the outset, Mr. Hartman wanted the organ’s visual aspect to leave an organic impression (no pun intended), with organ pipes arrayed unpredictably, as one might find with trees in a forest or tufts of wild grass. The great majority of the organ’s façade pipes were accordingly constructed from clear Douglas fir to match the surrounding ribs and louvers. Special narrow scales were developed to provide the wooden basses for the Great and Bombarde 16 principal ranks, while the Pedal 32-16-8 Contra Bourdon and 16 Open Wood are more typical, with generous cross-sections. All wooden façade pipes were constructed with wooden skirts to conceal the pipe foot, providing a uniform appearance from top to bottom.

Likewise, the 32-16 Trombone and 16 Bombarde stops were provided with full-length wooden resonators in the bass octaves and appear to sprout up through the organ façades. The number of tin pipes in the façades was carefully limited, while a unique finish was developed to ensure the metal did not appear overly brilliant relative to the surrounding surfaces.

Oakland’s previous cathedral, the Cathedral of St. Francis de Sales, was heavily damaged in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake and was eventually condemned. The new cathedral’s structure was consequently designed to absorb large seismic shocks; the entire building sits on isolator pads to resist oscillations in the event of an earthquake. The organ, too, was built to a rigorous standard for seismic reasons. The visible portions of the instrument are built around substantial steel frames, which are anchored to the platform of each canopy. The irregular arrangement of the façade pipes ruled out the usual linear pipe racking, and instead, most pipes are supported independently from behind by steel rods.

The main level of the cathedral has a substantial climate control system inconspicuously built into the nave floor. The system can heat or cool the ambient air to a height of approximately 15 feet above the floor. Being built into the reliquary wall, the organ chamber is likewise controlled for temperature. However, the immense volume of air above this 15-foot height has no climate control at all, and air temperatures can vary greatly depending on internal and external conditions. This is to say that temperatures on the two organ canopies would vary unpredictably from the organ chamber below but could also diverge between the two sides of the building.

Given the disastrous implications this would have on tuning, it was nonetheless with some reservations that we agreed that some form of climate control had to be provided for the organ canopies themselves. After many meetings and discussions, a system was put into place; it is comprehensive and self-regulating. Each organ canopy has its own microclimate control system capable of providing heat or cool air as required. A total of eight sensors per canopy monitor temperatures from strategic locations, and treated air is then directed as needed to twelve diffusers per side. From the outset, it was understood that the system could not provide absolute temperature stability, but would minimize temperature variations among the organ’s divisions as much as possible, ensuring the instrument is broadly useable.

The stoplist for the instrument evolved over the life of the project, based both on our own design and with input from the cathedral’s organ committee. We felt from the outset that the lower organ chamber needed to house an instrument that could function independently from the main organ when desired. The result was a 25-rank orgue de choeur (essentially the two Choir divisions) that was installed as the first phase of the project and was first heard at the cathedral’s rite of dedication on September 25, 2008.

The Choir, Echo Choir, and one 16 pedal rank speak through a screened opening in the reliquary wall to the west of the central altar. The Choir division has the resources of a minor Great division, with complete principal and reed choruses, while the Echo Choir contrasts with more delicate colors. Essential for accompanying, both divisions are independently expressive, feature light 16 manual stops, and offer distinct celeste effects. While not surprising, we have noted that the cathedral’s acoustic reacts in a decidedly muted manner to sound from the chambered divisions when compared to sound from the canopies above.

Befitting its visual dominance and the cathedral’s great interior volume, the main organ is grand in its scope. The Great division is particularly large and flexible, offering a 16 principal chorus, a variety of foundation stops, and three mixture options, with the Cornet stop being made up of principal-scale pipes. The Swell is likewise colorful and is enhanced by its efficient enclosure; the 16 Gamba pipes—open down to 16 C—are mounted horizontally against the back wall of the division. The Solo division offers a number of specialized, even orchestral, stops that one reviewer praised as “retro Aeolian-Skinner voices.” The 8 Doppel Flute makes for a powerful and harmonically rich solo voice, while the Viole d’orchestre and Viole céleste are razor-sharp in their tone. The Bombarde and Pedal divisions are inextricably intertwined, as the Bombarde stops are upward extensions of select pedal ranks to produce climactic choruses. The Bombarde division’s principal chorus is pleasingly dense, with the mixture adding weight and brilliance in equal measure. Other pedal ranks were deliberately not shared with the Bombarde division, to ensure the Pedal division could always have the last word; these include the 32-16-8 Bourdon, the 16 Open Wood, and the 32-16 Trombone ranks.

Reed choruses throughout the organ are intentionally varied; the Swell trumpets employ tapered English shallots to contrast against the French-inspired reeds in the Choir division. The Bombarde trumpets at 16, 8′, and 4 pitches are particularly grand in their effect, resulting from higher wind pressure, generous resonator scales, and Bertounèche-style shallots. The Solo 8 Tuba, speaking on 18 inches of wind, uses closed Willis-style shallots and harmonic resonators from G20 up to achieve its particular pealing tone. In contrast, the 8 Trompeta de luz is mounted horizontally in the organ’s façade and speaks on just over six inches wind pressure. The Trompeta de luz is not so powerful as to be harmful when brought in for the occasional final chord. The Pedal division’s 32-16 Trombone rank features our own Schnitger-type shallots for a firm, grounding bass tone.

The design of the unique four-manual console was also a rewarding collaborative effort with Craig Hartman. It was at his suggestion, for example, that the shapely upper portion was constructed using laminated strips of quarter-sawn oak. Our intention was to provide a uniquely uncluttered and timeless design; the final product has a total of 157 long-stem ebony drawknobs sweeping around the organist against a backdrop of rich walnut. Alert readers will note the console has three expression pedals, while there is a total of four expressive divisions. The default mode of operation has the Echo Choir following the Choir expression pedal, but it can be reassigned to any of the other pedals via drawknobs as well as programmed to change pedals on the General pistons. There is also an All Swells to Swell function for good measure. Other refinements include remote thumb pistons operating the General piston sequencer, to allow page-turners to assist with registration changes, and an All Pistons Next feature.

The opening concert was performed on February 11, 2010 by Parisian organist Olivier Latry. The program featured well-known works by Boëllmann, Bach, Barié, Vierne, Duruflé, Cochereau, Messiaen, and Widor. Marking the first time the instrument’s full resources were deployed, we noted that the capacity audience had a calming effect on the cathedral’s tremendous acoustic. This equally made our instrument sound with improved clarity and precision.

The morning after M. Latry’s concert, it was gratifying to receive a letter from Mr. Hartman with his reaction to the completed instrument: “The organ is just magnificent . . . I’ve been told the architecture sings, but, at last, it truly has a voice . . . The quality and precision that Létourneau’s craftsmen brought to this amazing instrument is everything I could have wished for and more . . . The entire ensemble—not only the pipe arrays but also the console—is truly an extension of the cathedral’s architecture.”

In closing, we would like to offer our thanks to the following individuals without whose help our Opus 118 would not be the success it is: Dr. Rudy de Vos, John L. McDonnell Jr., Mario Balestrieri, Father Paul Schmidt, Father Denis DesRosiers, Brother Martin Yribarren, Craig Hartman, Peter McDonnell, Eileen Ash, Eric Long, Gwelen Paliaga, Mike Brown, Maryliz Smith, Jack Bethards, and Phil Browning.

Andrew Forrest, Artistic Director

Fernand Létourneau, President

Dudley Oakes, Vice President for Sales and Marketing

In the wind . . .

John Bishop
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Former glories

I love visiting church buildings. I love experiencing all the different forms these buildings can take, reading bulletin boards to try to understand what’s going on in the place, meeting with church officials, hearing organs, imagining what organ from our lengthy list of available instruments might best suit a given church. I love the vitality of an active church—gaily decorated classrooms, purposeful rooms for the rehearsing and production of music, busy offices chattering and clattering away. I love the sense that all that activity and dedication of treasure is focused on the public worship of a faith community. And I love meeting with the committees charged with the task of acquiring a new organ for their church, discussing the various forms of the pipe organ, and helping them focus on how to conceive a plan and present it to their superior committees.

Around 2000 when I had just joined the Organ Clearing House, I visited a church building and was greeted by the organist who recognized me and asked, half in jest, “What are you doing here?  We love our organ!” I guess my reputation preceded me. It was the first time I realized that I might be considered the Grim Reaper of the pipe organ. I like to think that what I do is bring beautiful vintage organs into church buildings, but I realize how likely it would be that I would be known for the reverse—taking organs out of buildings.

There’s a church in suburban Boston that I’ve known for more than 25 years. In the early 1990’s, my firm, the Bishop Organ Company, renovated the organ. We installed new pitman windchests replacing poorly designed and sluggish ventil chests, releathered fifteen reservoirs, and installed a solid-state combination action and relay. It’s a big organ, more than 60 ranks with nine 16 voices. It’s a big church building—the sanctuary seats 1,200. But when we did this extensive project, there were only 75 pledging units—church-finance-speak for “families.” The job cost more than $250,000. Do the math.

Elsewhere in the building there is a dining hall that is served by a big commercial kitchen, all fitted out with the latest restaurant-style appliances from about 1952. Adjacent to the kitchen is a pantry lined with elegant oak-and-glass cabinets filled with what must be a thousand place settings of china, all monogrammed with the church’s initials. It must be 40 years since they had a really big dinner, but all the stuff is there and ready to go. This church is doing pretty well. There’s a relatively new pastor who is attracting new people, they have a good organist who is inspiring people to join the choir, and in general they are doing quite a bit better than holding their own.

There are many buildings like this around the country. Great big places originally built and furnished to serve huge congregations are now being operated by dwindling groups of faithful who struggle with fuel oil bills approaching $10,000 per month, and 80-year-old roofs that are starting to fail. It’s increasingly common for a congregation to worship in a chapel, parlor, or low-ceilinged fellowship hall during winter months to reduce the heating bill. And it’s common for these churches to close. 

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We at the Organ Clearing House have had many experiences with people who are losing their church. We organize the sale of an instrument, and arrive at the building with scaffolding, crates, and packing supplies to start the dismantling of the organ, and an elderly church member comes to us with a photograph of her parents’ wedding taking place in front of that organ. Her parents were married and buried, she and her husband were married, her husband was buried, and her children were all baptized, confirmed, and married with that organ. 

It’s a regular and poignant reminder of how much the church means to people. There have been a number of occasions when people have wept as we start to dismantle an organ.

Last year I was invited to assess the pipe organ in a church building in New Jersey that had closed. It was a grand building with mahogany-fronted galleries surrounding the sanctuary, sweeping stairways, and an organ with more than 80 ranks. This place was unusual in that there had apparently been no planning for the closure. It was two years since the last worship service, and the place looked like a ghost town. It was as if the organist finished the postlude, the ushers turned off the lights, the sexton locked the doors, and no one came back. The last Sunday’s music was still on the console music rack. Stuffed choir folders complete with lozenges and Kleenex were piled on the choir room piano. Half finished glasses of water were on the pulpit, there was unopened mail on the secretary’s desk, and the usher’s station at the rear of the nave was still stocked with bulletins, attendance records, and the neat little packets of biblical drawings and crayons for little children. All it needed was tumbleweeds being buffeted down the center aisle.

Some churches form a “disbandment committee” that is charged with the task of emptying the building, divesting of furnishings, and archiving parish records. I contact the chair of that committee when I want to bring a client to see and hear the organ. There’s a myth that says that the nominating committee is the worst duty to draw in a church (or in any non-profit institution) because you get rejected so regularly, but I think the disbandment committee must be worse. Pageant costumes, Christmas decorations, hymnals, folding chairs, classroom supplies, communion sets, Styrofoam coffee cups, choir and acolyte robes, and all the other gear it takes to run a church are piled in corridors, destined for dumpsters. People leaf through it all thinking there must be uses for it, without registering that there are a hundred other churches in the state going through the same thing. You’d think you could sell a nave full of pews in a heartbeat, but more often, a nave full of pews is heartbreaking.

There’s a positive side to all this. Often we can save the organ, and when we do it moves to another parish representing a spark from its original home.

Woburn (WOO-burn), Massachusetts is a suburb of Boston with a population of a little under 40,000, located about ten miles north of the city. During the nineteenth century Woburn was a center for the tanning of leather—the high school football team is still called “The Tanners.” It’s the next town to the north from my hometown, Winchester, and when I was in high school I was assistant organist at the First Congregational Church of Woburn, home of E. & G. G. Hook’s Opus 283 built in 1860, with three manuals and 31 speaking stops. I think I had an idea at that young age of how fortunate I was to be playing on such an instrument. William H. Clarke was the organist of that church when the organ was installed, and ten years later he was organist of the First Unitarian Church, just across the town square, when the Hook brothers installed their Opus 553 in 1870. (Note that Hook covered 270 opus numbers in ten years!) A few years after that, William Clarke left the Boston area to establish an organbuilding shop in Indianapolis, taking with him Steven P. Kinsley, the head voicer from the Hook factory.

 

Opus 283 is still in its original home. It is still playable, though the parish is not strong enough these days to mount a proper restoration. But Opus 553 is now in Berlin, Germany—widely referred to as “Die Berliner Hook.” When the Woburn Unitarian Church closed in 1990, the organ was sold to the church in Berlin, and the proceeds from the sale were saved under the stewardship of former church member Charlie Smith with the intention that they would be used when an appropriate opportunity came along. (See “Hook Opus 553 to Berlin, Germany” by Lois and Quentin Regestein, The Diapason, October 2001.)

Stoneham, Massachusetts is the next town east of Woburn, with a population of about 21,000. In 1995 the Stoneham Unitarian Church was closed, and the building was converted into a nursery school. A crew of organ lovers managed to get E. & G. G. Hook’s Opus 466 (1866) out of the building and into storage before the balcony was boarded up, and the organ was offered through the Unitarian Universalist Association to a “neighboring church that could give it a good home.”  

Lexington, Massachusetts is the next town west of Woburn (it also adjoins Winchester). It has a population of 30,000 and is home to the Lexington Battle Green, where the first battles of the American Revolutionary War took place. Facing the Battle Green is the stately First Parish (UUA) Church, home to a marvelous three-manual Hutchings organ. On the east end of Lexington on Massachusetts Avenue (Paul Revere’s Ride) is the Follen Community Church (UUA), a unique octagonal structure built in 1840. In 1995, the organ at the Follen Church was a hodge-podge affair that had been assembled from parts by an enthusiastic member of the church. It had a 48-volt DC electrical system, unusually high voltage for pipe organ action, and as the organ deteriorated, the console emitted puffs of smoke that unnerved the parishioners.

When members of the Follen Church heard through the UUA that the Hook organ from Stoneham (#466) was available, they pounced on the opportunity. Organ committee chair Wendy Strothman spearheaded a campaign that raised the funds necessary for the restoration and installation of the organ. The organ was first played in its new home on Easter Sunday 1997.

As the restoration progressed, Charlie Smith of Woburn got wind of the story, and offered the Woburn organ fund to the Follen Church to support the care of the restored organ, and to support regular organ concerts there. So Hook Opus 553 wound up supporting Opus 466 in its new home—and Wendy and I are married!

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As I write, the Organ Clearing House is participating in another project that allows a redundant organ a fresh start. Christ Church (Episcopal) in South Barre, Massachusetts closed its doors last year after a long period of declining membership and dwindling funds. Their organ was Hook & Hastings Opus 2344, built in 1914, a sweet little instrument with three stops on each of two manuals, and a pedal 16 Bourdon. The impeccable craftsmanship of its builders and its mechanical simplicity combined to make the organ a remarkably reliable and durable instrument. The Episcopal Diocese of Western Massachusetts contacted us about the disposition of the organ as the building was being offered for sale, but a few weeks later called again with a fresh suggestion. 

St Francis Episcopal Church is in Holden, Massachusetts, about 15 miles east of South Barre. Several of the parishioners from Christ Church in South Barre had begun worshipping in Holden, and some people wondered if the Hook & Hastings organ in Christ Church would be appropriate for installation at St. Francis. We compared measurements in the two buildings, and sure enough the organ would fit beautifully. The vestry of St. Francis put that project together in record time, and we are in the midst of relocating that organ now. It’s especially meaningful for the members of the former Christ Church to be able to bring their organ with them as they suffer the loss of their church and work to get used to a new worshipping life. As we came to town to start dismantling the organ, one of those members told me that she had been a member at Christ Church for 65 years. She lives across the street from the building. It’s personal.

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Sometimes the relocation of an organ is an artistic exercise, taking an instrument from a long-closed building and seeing it through installation with little or no contact with the people who were its original owners. This is rewarding work, as we know we are preserving the craftsmanship of our predecessors, reusing the earth’s resources by placing an organ in a building without having been a party to contemporary mining and smelting, and refreshing our ears with some of the best organ voicing from a previous age.

But when the relocation of an organ can involve the people who worshiped with it in its original home, and especially play a role in the blending of two parishes, the process is especially meaningful. It’s personal. 

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